Happenstance Meetings
by jcross1kirk
Summary: Amended: This AE occurs after Starbuck's return, but before the discovery of 'Earth'. ST:TOS timeline is somewhere during the original 5-year mission...call it Season 2 of the series. This is my first attempt at this genre, so I hope you enjoy it.
1. Chapter 1

Buzzz….Buzzz…

The form sleeping in the single bunk stirred and rolled over before the buzzer sounded again. He reached out and grasped the handset and spoke with his deep, gravelly voice.

"Adama," was all he said. All he had to say,

"Admiral…Colonial One on the horn."

The commander of the last Colonial Battlestar cleared his throat and sat up. "Thank you, Colonel. Please pipe it down here."

There was a pause, and a barely-audible click. Since New Caprica, he had noticed that the ambient noise over the com lines had increased. As long as he could hear, he mused, he wouldn't expend the resources to repair it. Hell, it might be because he was getting older.

"I hope I haven't woken you up, Admiral."

He warmed at her voice….as he seemed to do every time she called him in the morning. Her slight accent, noticeable even over the tinny com line, came from the eastern seaboard of Gothos, one of the four main continents on Caprica. After nearly 40 years of service on Colonial ships, the different accents didn't pose a problem to him, but he had developed the ability, with a small measure of satisfaction, be able to name off where and what colony a person had come from.

"You don't seem the type to care if you had, especially if you had business to attend to."

On Colonial One, Laura Roslin smiled brightly at his wry response. She had been up for an hour…a little insomnia in the early morning was a result of her cancer medication. Running a hand through her auburn hair, she swiveled in her chair. "Well, that might be true…but I can still appreciate the pleasure of getting a full night's sleep."

He bobbed his eyebrows as he stood up. "Those tend to come in short supply, it seems, Madam President. What can I do for you this morning?"

"Colonel Tigh informed me that you have been tracking a contact for a half-day on the long range scanners. Is that why the fleet changed it's heading yesterday?"

She was sharp, he mused. Four years of being exposed to the Galactica's crew and command staff had made her more aware of fleet operations. "We're not so sure that DRADIS isn't picking up some sort of EM echo. The ID and power signature of the contact aren't discernable at this distance, and it hasn't moved in relation to the fleet. If it were a Cylon probe of some kind, we could have gotten an IFF response. It's just hanging there at the edge of DRADIS."

Laura Roslin thought for a minute. "Have you considered sending reconnaissance fighters out there? I seem to recall that the Cylons could track us because we were infiltrated." She stood from her desk and paced, a little sore from her workout onboard Galactica yesterday, as he responded over the handset. "We have a Raptor scheduled to launch for a long-range recon of the contact at 0900 hours. We can jump there, scan, and jump back. However, Cylons wouldn't have held back this long, Madam President. We've been refueling, and at this distance, they would have known we were vulnerable. Either way, we'll know soon after launch." He let her 'military' advice slide…she didn't do it often, and when she did give advice, it was more a question of what he had done so far. When she did cross the line, just a look from him would remind her, so in-tune were they after all this time.

She nodded, even though he couldn't see her. "Good. That will give me something less to worry about. I can get back to worrying about my thighs."

He grinned at that. "Still working out every day, Madam President?"

She cocked her head. "I am. These last few pounds are hard to lose, Bill. I've tried about everything…maybe I ought to have Dr. Cottle give me some liposuction."

He looked out the portal, towards her ship….it was hanging off of the port quarter. "You are the President of the Colonies, you know. He might be obliged to do it….but I don't think you need it. If I could be so bold, Madam President."

She brightened. "I can't promote you any further, Admiral, no matter your compliments."

He didn't smile, but his eyes did. "I'm only telling you the truth, Madam President. I will contact you once we get information on our DRADIS echo."

There was a slight pause. "I'll get it in person. I'll be there in an hour."

"Very well, Madam President. Adama out." He hung up the handset and looked in the mirror, noticing the day-old whiskers that were looking back at him.

"I wish I had Lee's face….he couldn't grow a beard if he tried," he muttered to himself as he looked down for his razor.

On Colonial One, Laura hung up her own handset and smoothed her nightgown. In better spirits now after her morning conversation with William Adama, she sat at her desk and started pushing through some more of her constant and infernal paperwork.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The buzzer sounded, and the form in the bed rolled over and looked up at the blue light that was positioned over his bed, its soft beam lighting up the com panel to his right.

He punched the button. "Kirk here."

"Good Morning, Captain." Spock's baritone seemed to fill the cabin. "We have completed the long-range scan of those vessels that entered the quadrant."

James Kirk sat up, rubbing his eyes. "What are we looking at?"

"Several dozen ships of many different types. One large, heavily armored ship, approximately 1,400 meters in length. Sensors show rudimentary warp-drive capability on all ships. Humanoid life forms."

Kirk started at that. "Humanoid?"

Spock answered immediately. "At this range, it is difficult to determine species, but the amount of readings leads me to estimate that the number of individuals is over 40,000."

Kirk sighed, thinking that he needed to get to the bridge. "What's our status?"

"All decks report optimal conditions. We have been loitering at the edge of their scanning resolution for 12.21 hours, and I surmise that we have been detected, though there has been no action to engage or communicate with us," Spock told him. "Lieutenant Uhura has been recording their transmissions and attempting to decode them. She expects to be ready within the hour"

The Captain nodded. "Good. I'll be on the bridge in fifteen minutes."

"Very well, captain. Spock out."

The link clicked off, and James T. Kirk stood up, stretching and yawning the sleep out of his system. Wow….was he sore…He had stayed up too late playing basketball on the hanger deck…his team had lost to a team from Security, and they (himself, Sulu, Chekhov, and Riley) were now in the loser's bracket, not scheduled to play until tomorrow evening at 1900 hours. He was sore, and mad at the referee for the calls he had been making, but when he ref'ed the games, Scotty was an emperor, and you couldn't out-argue a Scotsman with a whistle.

Kirk grinned to himself and walked over to his monitor. Some items in his inbox….fuel consumption report…message from Starfleet about personnel transfer….results of the planetary survey of Hunt 312 C….nothing pressing. He ordered the computer to save all messaged as unread, and went to shower and change into his duty uniform, pausing only to wince at a kink in his back as he walked across his compartment.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Chief…how goes it?"

Tyrol looked over at Sharon Agathon and nodded. "Ship-shape, Lieutenant. Your Raptor is fueled and ready. The old man called down and wanted a word before you left."

"Athena" nodded and went to the nearest handset, crossing in front of her Raptor to do so. "Flight Deck to Combat," she said to the handset, letting the computer connect her with the bridge. On the other line, she heard it pick up. "Combat," came the reply.

"Anastasia, this is Sharon," Agathon answered. The Admiral wanted me to call before I went on flight ops."

"Stand by, Lieutenant," came the sure reply. After two clicks, she heard Adama pick up. "Lieutenant, are you ready for a milk run?"

She smiled…as time had gone on, her relationship with Admiral Adama had closed in on what it had been before her copy had shot him. He seemed to understand her more and more as time had passed, and had given her more and more responsibilities. Even though his decades-long bigotry and mistrust of Cylons, he had shown faith in her, and that made her proud. "Yes, Sir. It would be nice."

"DRADIS is reporting what we believe to be some sort of object right at the edge of our range. I need you to jump out there and scan for what we are seeing. Get out there, make a pass or two, and come home."

She nodded. "Yes, Sir."

He continued. "Don't engage any contacts you find, but we doubt you'll see anything of note. Keep us informed."

She nodded again. "Yes, Sir."

"That's all, Lieutenant." He hung up without further fanfare, and she turned back to her ship, beginning her pre-flight inspection.

Ten minutes later, she was in the stout craft, powering up her subsystems and checking all the indicators. "We're good to go, Flight Chief. Ready to launch."

"Launch control to probe craft: Launch when ready. Happy hunting."

Sharon took the stick, and punched the engines to life. The Raptor hovered at station-keeping for a moment, then she edged it into position. After a moment, the green "GO" light popped on, and the small craft accelerated out of the flight pod and into space.

"Coming to course 232, negative declination three degrees. Coordinates prepared for jump."

"Copy, Athena. OK for jump."

A couple kilometers from the bulk of Galactica, a familiar hourglass-shaped halo formed around Athena's raptor for a split-second, then a flash of light, and she was gone from view.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Status, Mr. Spock?"

Kirk strode onto the bridge with a cup of coffee in his hand, trying to hide the small limp that his sore muscles were causing. To his right, the Vulcan science officer turned to him, hands clasped behind his back.

"Unchanged," Spock said. "The assortment of ships have maintained a true course, moving at sublight speed. Their course is two-nine-seven, mark one-four, and their current speed is nine percent of the speed of light. We are pacing them and maintaining a distance of 10 light-minutes."

Kirk looked at the screen….from this distance, the small fleet looked like so many points of light, with one obviously larger than most. "Where are they headed?"

"Their straight-line course is roughly in the direction of the Romulan Neutral Zone," Spock told him. "At this speed, however, they will not make it there in our lifetime."

Kirk looked up at him wryly, sipping the hot coffee. It was terrible, and he winced. "But they have warp capability. If they were headed that way, wouldn't it be logical to use FTL travel?"

Spock's eyebrow shot up. "I cannot attest to the motivations of the people onboard those ships, Captain. However, since they were not discovered earlier by other survey ships, logic would dictate that they used warp travel to arrive here, and that they are waiting to move off for some reason."

Kirk shrugged, and stepped down to the command deck. "Scan for ion trails, debris, subspace markers…maybe we can read their path to where we are now….reverse-plot their path here. Do we have the analysis of their cipher yet?"

To Spock's left, Uhura turned her face to the captain. "Sir…I discovered an anomaly in the results, and I am rechecking my results before I report."

Kirk nodded….that was unusual. Uhura was one of the top linguists in Starfleet, and for her to recheck her results meant that she had seen something rather different than what she had seen before….she was surprised by her findings. "Take your time, Lieutenant. Best to recheck and be correct than to rush through and get it wrong."

"Aye, Sir." Without further comment, she turned back to her computer.

Kirk looked at Spock, and took his seat in the command chair. After finishing his coffee, he handed the cup to a yeoman and punched a button on his right armrest:

"Captain's log, Stardate 343…"

He was interrupted by Lieutenant Sulu. "Captain, the large ship has launched a small craft…tactical readouts show this is a different type of craft than what we have been observing to this point."

Spock slid to his viewer. "It is larger….maybe twice the mass of the other patrol craft we have seen."

Kirk turned to his science officer. "Patrol craft, Spock?"

Spock straightened. "The larger ship has been regularly launching and recovering patrol craft. These smaller craft have been flying regular patrols throughout the fleet, encompassing a sphere of around fifteen light-seconds from the center of the group of ships."

Kirk stood and stepped over to Sulu's board. "Like an old aircraft carrier, Sulu."

The navigator nodded. "Exactly, Captain. She's built like one, too. Massive and armored," he told Kirk, a little bit of admiration coloring his voice. Kirk suppressed a smile….Sulu couldn't help it. He was a born sailor, no matter his botanical hobbies.

Anyone could see it. Hikaru Sulu was a swashbuckler.

Spock spoke again…this time with a shade more emphasis. "This craft has a rudimentary warp drive onboard….."

Sulu went back to his scanner. "Sir! The patrol craft has engaged warp. Right for us. Arrival time is sixty seconds."

Kirk returned to his seat. "Yellow Alert. Raise the shields and put weapons on standby. Uhura, prepare to hail them. Looks like we'll be making contact sooner than expected."

Spock turned to Kirk. "No withdrawal, Captain?"

Kirk looked at him, then back at the screen, a hint of a smile turning his cheeks round. "No, Mr. Spock. Not this time. Let's be seen. Uhura, open hailing frequencies once they drop out of warp."

"Aye, Sir…and, Captain, I have a preliminary report on their encoding."

Kirk turned to her. "Go ahead, Lieutenant."

"Sir….they are speaking Standard."

Kirk was raising his coffee to his lips, put lowered it when he heard her response. "Standard?"

Uhura nodded. "Yes, Sir. A non-Federation cipher, but clearly in Standard. That's why I was rechecking the results, because the language was recognized so quickly. They are definitely not Federation ships, or recognized communication frequencies, but they are communicating in our language."

Kirk looked up at Spock. "Who are they?"

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Unknown. Fascinating."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Fifteen kilometers off of Enterprise, a flash of Chertkov radiation (that's the name the Federation gave the visible release of warp energy) appeared, and Sharon Agathon's Raptor re-entered real space.

She was initially surprised at the ship in front of her…Adama had not believed that there was a ship out here. However, there she was, hanging in space in front of her.

She turned on her scanners and punched her com button. "Athena to Combat, positive contact, no IFF or identification of any kind. Totally new design."

On the bridge of the Galactica, eyes snapped to Admiral William Adama as he decided what to do. He picked up his handset. "Athena, this is Adama. Do you have any memory or information on the craft you see in front of you?"

She understood what he meant, and she accessed her Cylon datafiles. After a moment, she shook her head. "No, Sir. No record of a ship of this design. Transmitting visual and scanner information now."

The rough voice took a second to respond. "Data stream verified. Maintain your distance and continue scanning. Jump out of there if you smell anything out of the ordinary."

She responded in the affirmative, and Adama put down the handset. "Tactical, raise the alert status of the fleet. Prepare jump coordinates and send them out. Go ahead and get the President on the line, Lieutenant."

"No need, Sir. She's already arrived onboard and she's on her way here." That from Tigh, who had just returned from a break. "Red Squadron is standing by on alert…I took the liberty of having them ready in case we needed them."

Adama nodded, and looked at DRADIS. After a few seconds, the screen in front of him was replaced by the visual of the mystery ship.

"Is this our new neighbor?" Adama turned to look at the arriving President, and he stepped to his right, making room for her as she moved beside him. Her tone was one he recognized…her 'I was right' tone, but he took it in stride. She had been. "Different design than I've ever seen….."

She looked at it as well. "It is a beautiful ship."

He looked at her, and swallowed a comment that would have explained that a ship's looks had nothing to do with if it was a threat. "Yes, it is," he said to her quietly, and he could actually sense her warming to him. It made him feel good, but he concentrated on the image in front of him.

The new ship was white, with red and black lettering on her hull plates. Her rear pods were swept up, and red energy flickered in half-globes that were mounted on the front. A saucer-shaped hull sat on top of a thick structural pylon, and all were attached to a cylindrical section that was fronted by what was obviously a scanning dish of some sort.

But she was just sitting there, navigation lights blinking red and green. This ship didn't sneak anywhere, he mused. Galactica was, at best, a gunmetal grey, her polytitanium armor reflecting barely 10% of the light that struck her.

Then…he stopped short, and looked at his tactical officer. "Magnify that wording…under the front section. Factor of ten."

The picture changed, and he heard Laura Roslin's breath hitch. "Gods…..how can we read that? Do you see that? How?"

He could read what he saw. That was impossible. Unless….

"USS ENTERPRISE NCC-1701"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Captain….we are being scanned. Low-power EM bandwidth. Our shields are transparent to the scan."

Kirk nodded. "I expected that. This is a reconnaissance ship. Let them scan us…we're doing the same to them, aren't we?"

"Logical." Spock went back to his readout. "One lifeform onboard. Android and human readings…possibly a cybernetic organism. The warp drive is not an anti-matter drive…sensors read a store of fuel onboard. Extremely high power potential for a fuel-based engine. Weaponry includes missiles with high explosives and two projectile cannon. They are communicating directly with the large warship via low-gain subspace link."

Kirk thought for a second as he watched the little ship move to their port quarter. "Lieutenant Uhura, let's try to raise her."

"Aye, sir. It looks like she's only going to receive audio," she informed her captain, and when he acknowledged her with a nod, she opened up the hailing frequencies. "Hailing frequencies open, Captain."

"This is Captain James T. Kirk of the Federation starship Enterprise. We come in peace. Please identify yourself."

Onboard the Raptor, Sharon jumped. She punched her com button. "Combat, I've been directly hailed by the commander of their ship. Request permission to respond."

Adama picked up the handset. "Permission denied, but not because of you. Not on a first contact like this, Lieutenant. This might be a non-Colonial human ship. Playback their hail, D."

The bridge of the Galactica was silent as the voice sounded over the speakers. After a pause, Adama pointed at his handset and Anastasia opened up the inter-ship communications link to him. Once she nodded, he picked it up.

"This is Admiral Adama, commanding Galactica."

Onboard Enterprise, Uhura turned to Kirk. "That reply was from the large ship. No communication from the probe craft. No translation program verified…this is direct voice communication."

Kirk nodded, and punched his comlink. "Admiral Adama. We tracked your fleet as it entered Federation space. Can we give you any assistance?"

The Galactica bridge was stunned, and Adama muted his handset. "How can we be speaking the same language?" Adama looked at his communications officer, and she checked her board. "No translation software detected, and that is a human voice. They are speaking directly to us."

Adama remained stoic, although he could feel the pounding of his heart. He un-muted his handset "Yes, Captain, you might be able to. What colony is your point of origin?"

Kirk looked at the comlink quizzically. "Colony?"

Adama paused for a second. "Yes, Captain…which colony? Picon? Gemon? Aquarion?"

Kirk furrowed his brow. "I don't know those colonies, Admiral. The nearest colony world from here is Barrow 221…."

Barrow 221….Adama looked meaningfully at Roslin, then at Tigh. He covered the handset for a second and said, "Humans that have never heard of the 12 Colonies?" Then, after that, he spoke into the headset again.

"I think we might need to meet face to face, Captain. Can you launch a shuttle and meet with us onboard Galactica?"

Kirk looked at Spock, who merely stood at his station. "Yes. I will assemble some of my senior officers and come onboard."

"Very well. We will plan on meeting in ten centons."

Kirk stopped short. "Centons, Admiral? How long of a time is a centon?"

"He doesn't know what a centon is." Adama said it quietly….just so that Roslin and Tigh could hear him. "Captain, approach the fleet. We will signal when we are ready."

"Yes, Admiral. We will await your signal. Kirk out."

Adama turned to Roslin and Tigh. "Please contact Captain Adama and meet me in my quarters in a centon. Maintain alert status, and scan that ship out there."

He turned away from the responses of his crew, and walked off the bridge. He felt Laura on his right, walking with him, but he was immersed in thought.

"Did they escape the Cylon attack? I wonder if that is some sort of newer-model deep-space probe," Laura said, but Adama stopped and turned to her.

"A Colonist would know what a centon is, and would not hesitate to tell what colony they are from," he began. "This Kirk didn't know either. Athena would have told us if these were Cylons, because she would have been able to receive transceiver data from them."

The President of the Colonies looked up at him. "If they're not Cylons and not Colonists…." Her eyes widened. "Could they be from Earth?"

He felt her hand touch his arm, and he looked at her intensely. "I don't know. If they are, then we have some problems. It means that the Cylons, who are in the area, will also know the location of Earth, and the last planet that has humans on it will be at risk." He thought for a second. "Judging by that ship, however, they might be able to defend themselves. It's hard to say at this point."

She nodded. "The people will not agree to waiting while we assess the strategic implications of beating the Cylons to Earth. If this is it, we need to get there. Otherwise, the unrest that will occur will make the Baltar trial look like a graduation party."

He sighed. "Let's get together with Tigh and Lee. We have a lot to discuss."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sharon landed her Raptor and shut it down, impatiently pulling off her helmet before the environment around the ship repressurized. After her ship was drawn down into the hanger, she popped the hatch and stepped out.

Tyrol was there waiting on her. "I heard a rumor you sighted an Earth ship."

She shook her head, and let a smile break through. "I don't know, chief. It was a totally new design to me. I'd never seen a ship like that. And they tried to communicate with me, but the old man talked to them. Looks like they're coming here shortly."

Cally Tyrol heard the discussion, and trotted over. "They're coming here? Shouldn't we straighten up?" Her husband looked at her and scowled, but it was good-natured. "Are we in our cabin? Gods…..OK. Get a detail out here and make the hanger deck ship-shape. We don't want to embarrass ourselves."

As he was finishing, Sharon's husband arrived on the deck. Helo made eye contact with his wife and walked over to her. "Rumor mill's all over the place. What trouble did you cause out there, Lieutenant?"

She rolled her eyes. "None, I hope. Listen, I have to go get debriefed by Apollo, so I have to go. We'll talk later."

They lightly touched hands as she passed, and Helo watched her go. "That looks like good news," he told Tyrol. The chief nodded in response. "We need some," he replied.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Enterprise had turned to approach the Colonial fleet, bringing herself parallel to the fleet's relative motion and closing the distance slowly, until she was within 1000 kilometers. Vipers were now flying by her, checking her over and passing within 250 meters of her shielding boundary.

Inside the briefing room, Kirk addressed his senior staff.

"So, we have this mystery ship and fleet. All of you have been getting answers together for me. Let's have them."

Spock spoke first. "There are forty-two large ships in the fleet, including the Galactica. All are full of people, well in excess of that which would be needed to crew them. There are three ships that are predominantly dedicated to growing and producing foodstuffs, one that is a fuel refinery, and the rest are a varied conglomeration, with differing hull stress levels. All are warp-capable, but their field coils are not continuous generators. They are made differently than ours…possibly more efficient, but only attuned to one subspace wavelength of the Cochrane subset. They are built for short bursts of warp speed….a maximum of one-quarter light year at a time, and the speed of travel is not variable. I estimate they burst into warp at approximately warp six."

Kirk frowned at that. "It sounds…haphazard."

Spock continued. "It appears they have solved that by a process that I call 'aiming'. They cannot control their hyperlight speed, but can control their position of entry and exit out of subspace."

"Very well, Mr. Spock. Tactical?"

Sulu spoke up. "Heavy armor. Dense neo-titanium alloy. She's taken a couple direct hits from multi-megaton nuclear warheads, and only shows light structural damage. We read seven high-megaton nuclear weapons on board her. Over a hundred small cannon on her, and ten high-velocity main guns. No shields to speak of. Success estimates in ship-to-ship battle scenarios are running in the 60-percentile range."

"Thank you, Mr. Sulu. Engineering?"

Scotty piped in. "Energy generation is roughly a quarter of our own, but she's just idling right now. She's four times our length, five times our width, three times our dorsal height and eighty-one times our mass. Given her fuel-burning engines, estimate her range to be 75 light-years before she needs refueled, but she's got the water-treatment areas and food replication plants to run her own five-year mission."

Kirk nodded. "Anything else of note?"

Dr. McCoy piped in. "Results from more detailed scans show that the vast majority of the occupants of the ships are humans, just like you and me. Readings I've seen are enough to make me believe that they've been on those ships for quite some time. General health is somewhat below average, compared to ours. Anything more than that will need a direct scan."

"Well, we're going to get it. Admiral Adama is going to contact us with landing coordinates and we'll board Galileo and go over," Kirk informed them. "The landing party will be myself, Spock, Dr. McCoy, Lt. Uhura, and Mr. Sulu. Scotty, you'll have command, but inform the OOD that you might be asked to come over as well." Kirk looked at them for a second. "I don't want them to know about the transporter until I get a better feel for them. Best not to play all of our cards."

The intercom whistle sounded. "Captain Kirk….Admiral Adama standing by."

Kirk punched the comlink button. "Pipe it down here, Lieutenant."

A pause. "Admiral? Kirk here."

Adama's voice rasped over the speaker. "Captain, we are ready to receive you at your convenience."

"We will be departing shortly, Admiral. See you soon."

"Adama out."

McCoy looked at Captain Kirk. "A bit short, isn't he?"

Kirk frowned and shook his head. "Actually, it doesn't sound like he likes to mince words, Bones. Direct and to the point."

"That would be a refreshing change," McCoy said, looking sideways at Spock. Before Spock could reply, Kirk put up both his hands and interrupted any possible debate. "Gentlemen, not now," he told them as he suppressed a smile. "We have to get to our appointment."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

William Adama adjusted the tight collar of his dress uniform and grimaced. "I always liked looking at this uniform in the mirror more than wearing it."

To Adama's right, Lee Adama was waiting for his father, dressed in his formal uniform. "Maybe it's shrunk a bit."

The Admiral looked at his son. "Or maybe I've grown?" Lee smiled at that, though his more stoic father merely turned and looked into the mirror.

"I wouldn't know. I'm not a tailor." Lee watched his father finish and turn to leave his compartment. Lee followed his father out of his quarters and they walked towards the hanger bay. "I wonder what this Kirk is like?"

"He sounds young, but like a commander," the elder Adama told him. "Like you, from time to time."

Lee took the comment for what it was…half-compliment, half criticism….and changed the subject. "Scanners show no fighter bays, no fighters."

His father nodded. "The configuration is more like a heavy cruiser. Power generation is off the scale. We know she's armed…launch tubes were noted in Athena's recon, and there are several batteries of what we think are some sort of energy weapons, but Tactical is still working on that configuration. She's light, full of empty spaces, and able to replicate foodstuffs from basic matter. That and her FTL is completely different than ours. That's all we know." Bill looked at his son. "I'd like to know more. If this ship is an Earth vessel, it probably means there will be more. If it's not, we're taking a huge risk."

"You must think it's worth it," Lee offered, trying to boost his father's hopes. "Something must have piqued your interest. Your instincts have been pretty good to this point."

Adama walked on. "Thanks, Lee."

In a few moments, they entered the large hanger bay, and joined President Roslin, her aides, a few bodyguards, and a small contingent of officers, including Helo, Athena, and Starbuck.

Adama walked up to Starbuck, appraising her. "You clean up well, Lieutenant."

She unsuccessfully hid a grin, and cocked her head a little. "When I get the chance, Admiral."

He walked on, and she looked at Lee, who rolled his eyes. She smiled broadly at him, and he grinned back. The mood in the hanger was the most optimistic she could remember in months…maybe ever since they turned the Cylon virus back on them, and destroyed two baseships worth of raiders and heavy fighters.

However, this light-heartedness wasn't the same. This was thick with a hope they hadn't felt in the years since they left their destroyed star systems. She could almost taste the expectation, and she was sure President Roslin was ready to start zooming around the flight deck.

Laura Roslin was, quite literally, shaking with anticipation. "Are they on their way?" She asked the Admiral, who looked at her a warm patience. "Combat informed me before we left my quarters that they were in route," he assured her.

Then, he turned to the whole of the assembled group. "We don't know anything about these people. Keep your guard up, and don't reveal anything. Be polite, and cordial, but don't volunteer information about our past, our leadership, or our goal. Let myself and the President speak unless you are directly spoken to."

After the 'ayes' had returned to him, he looked at Laura. "You did your hair for this," he said softly to her

She eyeballed him, and responded in kind. "You put on your dress uniform."

He nodded. "Are you expecting a date?"

She ground her teeth, crushing the grin that threatened to spread over her face. "Are you offering?"

He broke off the conversation, but she saw the lines around his eyes increase. She couldn't dwell on that, though…..the lights from the hanger elevator started to blink, and a wail from the warning indicator brought all their eyes to the platform.

The craft that appeared was light grey….the same color as the ship from whence she came. It was shaped like a box, just a hint of aerodynamic consideration seemed to be given to her design. On the side, the name of the ship was in stylized script, and her home ship's name was underneath…"USS ENTERPRISE NCC-1701"

After movement ceased, the hatchway opened, accompanied by the whine of servo-motors. Almost immediately, a form stepped out.

He was shorter than Lee…maybe a half-inch or so. Sandy hair topped the young face. Hazel eyes locked onto the waiting group as he moved to the side, allowing the rest of his group to exit their craft.

They all wore primary colors…..one in bright red, two in blue, two in gold. One woman…a tall, dark-skinned woman in a short dress. One of them wasn't quite human….yellowish skin and severe features. The ears were different as well…the pinnae were pointed.

The young man stepped forward. "I'm James T. Kirk, Captain of the Enterprise. This," he indicated the non-human, "is my first officer, Commander Spock. My Communications officer, Lieutenant Uhura, my chief medical officer, Dr. McCoy, and my tactical officer, Lieutenant Sulu."

Admiral Adama stepped forward. "I'm Admiral William Adama, military commander of the fleet. This is President Laura Roslin, President of the Colonies." She stepped forward and shook Kirk's hand. It was a firm handshake, and Kirk tipped his head to her. "Madam President," he said. The Admiral then turned to a young man standing next to him. "This is our CAG, Captain Lee Adama….my son," Adama added, hiding the quick flush of private pride, "and representatives of my crew. Captain Agathon, third in command, Lieutenant Thrace, lead pilot, and Lieutenant JG Agathon, who was the pilot of the Raptor that was sent to reconnoiter your ship." Adama turned back to Kirk. "Welcome to Galactica."

"Thank you, Admiral," Kirk said.

Laura Roslin stepped forward. "I'm very interested in something, Captain. Where are you from?"

Kirk looked at her for a second. "The United Federation of Planets."

She nodded. "Yes, I know..I know that. I heard the original transmission, but what I want to know is what planet are you from?"

Kirk was intrigued by the intensity in the woman's eyes. She was an attractive woman, maybe fifteen years his senior, and locked in on these eyes before answering her question.

"I was born on a planet called Earth."

There was a gasp from the Colonial attendees. Laura Roslin paused, and looked at Adama. "Could you repeat that, please?"

Kirk looked at Spock, who merely lifted one eyebrow. "Earth. Another name for it is Terra, but humans call it Earth."

William Adama took a breath. "Let's go to our conference room, please. We have a lot to discuss."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A half-hour later, James Kirk looked across the table at Admiral Adama and smiled. "Then, I believe you've come to the right place. That's a hell of a leap of faith."

Lee, Sulu, and Spock were on the far end of the room, looking at star charts and Enterprise sensor readings from the nearby area. Starbuck had left for a patrol, and the Agathons were sitting quietly, holding hands and smiling. McCoy had been met by Dr. Cottle, and they had moved off to look at the medical resources onboard Galactica.

Roslin and Adama were sitting side by side, looking across the table at the Captain. "It's all we had," Adama said.

"How far are we from Earth?" Roslin asked, and Kirk looked over at Spock. "How far to Sol, Spock?"

"Sixty-three light-years," came back the reply.

Roslin looked at Adama, who was frowning. "How far is that?"

Adama stood up. "That is a full six months. That and refueling will make it longer. We might not be able to control the population for that long. Has the information about this made it to the press yet?"

Roslin nodded. "Rumors to this point, but you can't miss the new starship off to the side of the fleet," she said. "The people will find out soon….you can't hold this information down for any length of time."

They were interrupted by a beep, and Kirk stood up. "Excuse me for one moment," he said, and pulled out his communicator. "Kirk here."

A heavily-accented voice sounded in the room. "Captain, we're tracking three large ships….distance is 575 AU's. No ID, no familiar designs. They are on a direct approach vector, closing at warp 6."

Kirk looked at Adama. "Do we have any other data on these ships?"

"Yes, Sir. Warp-drive field design is a close match for the Galactica."

Adama stood. "Those are Cylon base-ships. Their version of our capital ships. We can't stand up to three of them." He strode to a handset that was on the wall. "Conn….call general quarters, recall the patrols, and prepare to jump."

Kirk paused for a moment. "Scotty, sound red alert. Prepare to beam us aboard." Roslin looked at him quizzically, and Kirk explained. "We have the ability to transport human beings from one location to another by disassembling them and reassembling them on the subatomic level."

"Incredible," Roslin noted. Kirk nodded. "It is, except it is now commonplace for people to be transported. The risks are lower than travel in a shuttlecraft."

The far hatch opened, and McCoy entered with Cottle. "Jim, we should synthesize some medical supplies for the fleet here and give them all they can carry. Also, there's a Vitamin C and D deficiency in some of the populations on the ships. We could take care of that within a day."

Kirk nodded. "Understood, but it looks like we're going to be under attack. Sulu, what course should the fleet take?"

Sulu thought for a second. "220-mark-23."

"You might want to come up to the bridge and explain what you mean to the navigator," Adama told Sulu. "Will you jump with us?"

Kirk nodded. "We'll move off together."

"Captain…The Kongo has come into sensor range….she's going to intercept the incoming ships before they get here. Captain Marra is hailing us."

The USS Kongo, which was another Constitution-Class starship, had been en route to rendezvous with Enterprise for a crew transfer, and had therefore been in the area, just slightly coreward of Kirk's ship, and in the path that the Galactica had taken from her own part of the galaxy. She had locked on to the baseships an hour earlier, and had been following communication protocols, but with no success.

Kirk looked at Adama and put a finger up. "Admiral, let's get a report from Captain Marra before we move off."

Adama raised his head. "How long until the Cylons arrive?"

Scotty answered. "I heard the Admiral. 34 minutes at present speed, but Kongo will intercept within three. Captain Marra is on the line."

"Jim? This is Marra. We picked up these ships an hour ago, and they aren't responding to hails. We're on an intercept vector, closing on them…..wait…they're dropping into regular space. Stand by here…we're going to hail them."

Adama looked at Lee, who had rejoined him, and at President Roslin. "It looks like they can track ships in FTL travel, and communicate via FTL means," he said quietly. "That's a hell of an advantage on the Cylons."

Lee nodded. "I wonder what kind of success their ships would have against the Cylons."

Roslin looked at the Adama men and took her glasses off. "It looks as if we're going to find out in short order."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Looks like we out-gun them on paper, Sir." Marra acknowledged his tactical officer with a nod. "Very well. Open hailing frequencies."

The communications officer paused, and looked at his captain. "Receiving audio response to our challenge. Putting it on speaker."

"Unidentified ship, this is Captain Marra of the Federation starship Kongo. Please identify yourself."

Silence. Then, "Who are you?"

A feminine voice. Marra frowned. "We represent the United Federation of Planets. Can you identify yourselves?"

"Obviously, these are not humans from the Colonies." That was a male voice, and Marra leaned forward in his seat. What the hell….?

"Earth, then?" A different voice….male.

Marra hit the muting button on his armrest. "Full sensor sweep, politeness be damned. This is peculiar as hell. Tell me what we're dealing with."

"Aye, Sir."

He waited for the info, but listened to the conversation that was coming over the speakers.

"That would confirm that Earth is relatively close." Another female voice.

"The humans could be lying. They do that very well."

"The ship is not one we have noted before. The configuration is new to the collective."

"No radiation signature from the weaponry system…their offensive capability is unknown."

Marra snorted. "Nothing like being talked about as if you're not there."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"The Cylons are not known for talking."

William Adama didn't turn as he made his statement, the whole group heading up to the bridge of the Galactica. Jim Kirk, however, heard him as he walked a half-step behind him.

"These are the semi-cybernetic lifeforms that we detected in the fleet. Your pilot was one."

Adama stopped immediately. "You can scan our fleet and distinguish between Cylons and humans? From your ship?"

Spock spoke up. "We can do so. You seem to know that you were infiltrated."

Adama looked at him with hard eyes. "We know of several models of human-like Cylons, but no-one has seen them all. There are 12 models, and we know of eleven. There are several that are in the fleet that have voluntarily decided to choose humanity over their Cylon programming….Lieutenant Agathon is one. My second-in-command is another. We are mostly concerned with sleeper agents."

Spock nodded. "Logical."

President Roslin stepped into the grouping. "Can you also determine whether or not these friendly Cylons are subject to programming, or if they are in contact with the main body of Cylons?"

Spock thought for a second. "If there are communications, the probability is high that we can find the sources…."

Kirk completed the thought. "….and if we can identify that, we can jam their transmissions."

Adama looked at Roslin, communicating with her silently, back at Kirk, then resumed his quick walk in silence.

In a few moments, they were on the bridge, and Kirk had re-established the communications link with Enterprise and Kongo.

"Kirk here….what's your status, Ken?"

The captain of the Kongo responded. "The group on the other side is discussing the situation amongst themselves. They are unsure who we are…..they know we're human, and they've scanned us with everything they got, but they're just hanging there….can you hear our audio?"

"Yes, we can. We'll keep listening."

"Captain Marra, this is Admiral Adama. Are your defensive computers interlinked?"

A pause. "Yes, Admiral, they are."

Adama took a breath. "The Cylons will try to infiltrate your computer system before they attack. It was how they succeeded in defeating Colonial forces the first time. We operate separate, non-dependant computer systems, so that if one is infected, the others are not."

"Understood. Initiate electronic counter-measure protocol and isolate the mainframe, Commander F'ath."

An alien voice sounded. "Aye, Sir."

"Can we tie-in to your com system?" Kirk asked the question, and Adama looked at his daughter-in-law. "Lieutenant, see what you can do."

After a few seconds, the overhead speakers filled the bridge with the Cylon deliberations, along with the sounds on the bridge of the Kongo.

"This is Captain Marra….state your purpose."

Marra was obviously becoming impatient with the Cylons and their deliberations. Then, a response came….and it was chilling.

"Our purpose is to exterminate humanity."

Marra spoke right away. "Red Alert! All weapons to full power. Double front shields and prepare for tight maneuvers! Jim…you want to listen in?"

"Not if it will detract from your combat operations, Ken." Kirk's brows knit together. "Enterprise, go to yellow alert. Bring all weapons to standby and man all combat stations."

"Aye, Sir." Scotty's voice was salve on Kirk's instinctive urge to get back to his ship. He would have time to get there if Kongo had problems.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Six….communications have been terminated by the human commander."

The Cylon nodded. "Yes. Has the program been transmitted?"

A short man to her left reached his hands into what looked like a gentle waterfall. "Yes, it has. They have isolated their main computer core from their tactical and operational dataframes. The program is not penetrating their cipher defense."

"These cannot be Colonials. Their cipher is too complex, and it is using characters outside of our operational database." Anger and irritation shaded the voice of the dark-skinned humanoid, who stood with his hands immersed in a pool of water. "We should launch."

"Yes…launch. We can further investigate their dataframe after we neutralize their ship."

Their thoughts, and agreement, was sent via clear ionic pathways in the clear liquid to information cables, linking them to the hybrid's mindform. She writhed in her pool, and sent out the command to launch, alternating between obvious ecstasy and pain:

"Emmisary falling charted electromagnetic buffer technology carbon……launch."

On the control level, the Cylon known as Number Five looked at the others. "Launching commenced."

Number Eight looked up. "A strong electromagnetic shield has formed around the human ship. Our raiders might not be able to defeat it."

Number Six spoke up. "Target with nuclear weapons."

The dark-skinned Cylon looked up. "We shall use those as a last resort. Targeting with conventional weaponry. Preparing to fire."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Sir, detecting small craft launching. At least seventy. They are assembling into formations."

Marra shifted in his chair. "Present minimum aspect. Phasers at one-half power, wide beam. Photon torpedoes are to be targeted on their primary power generation and communications locations. Hold your fire until fired upon. Navigator, take us away from slugging range and give us some room to maneuver…a thousand kilometers to start, subject to further orders."

The Kongo looped away at high impulse, and the three flights of Raiders leapt after them. Kongo fired some warning shots in their path, attempting to force them off, but the Cylons ignored the threat.

"No response to our warning shots, captain. All craft are still in pursuit."

The Science officer checked his hood. "Reading radiation signatures. Probably nuclear weapons. Strength, range, and yield unknown."

Marra didn't look up. "Find out."

At once, the Cylon groupmind ordered the raiders to fire, and they did, instantaneously letting loose with thousands of rounds from their KEW's.

"Incoming salvos from the fighter craft. Kinetic energy weapons…..some explosive rounds. Unguided." F'ath looked up at the screen. "Will impact the screens in five seconds."

The three baseships were still on the screen, but diminished in size by the factor of distance. As Kongo pivoted around, a sparkling effect began on in her shields, increasing until it resembled a shower of sparks.

"Shield intensity?" Marra looked at the tactical readout, answering his own question, but his weapons officer answered. "Nominal, However, these impacts will begin draining us soon." Marra nodded….the shields were exceptional at deflecting energy weapons, but it was like being in a meteor storm with this adversary. The shields didn't handle kinetic weapons well.

"OK….target the lead group of fighters and fire phasers."

The Federation starship let loose with blue-colored bolts. They lanced out and struck the first wave of fighters, knocking them off their path and causing the entire formation to split randomly. Multiple explosions flared as several of the raiders were destroyed by the phaser shot.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Energy bolts. Some sort of high-energy beam. We have not seen it before."

Number Eight took this in with a nod. "Firing missiles."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Missiles incoming! Non-nuclear."

Marra looked at his navigator. "Hard to port, course 310 mark 20."

The heavy cruiser banked hard to her left, but the missiles tracked her easily, crossing the distance in fifteen seconds and impacting the shields. New explosions broke around the Kongo, and light shuddering could be felt inside her and the inertia dampeners dealt with the heavier impacts.

"High-explosive missiles. Tracking hundreds. Shields are down to 89%. If the fighters re-engage, shield strength will drop more rapidly."

Marra nodded to his science officer. "Fine. Target their main ships with photon torpedoes and fire when ready."

The distinctive "Tho-WACK" of the photon torpedo firing system sounded, and the deck plates shuddered as the Kongo let loose with her heavy ordinance. Traveling at relativistic speed, they took three seconds to cross the distance between the enemy ships. In an instant, three torpedoes struck the central Cylon baseship. One detonated on the hull plating, scorching the upper wing on the right side. The second crashed into the central communication hub, penetrating two decks before exploding. The third hit on the support struts to the lower right wing, detonating on impact and decimating part of the exterior communications array.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Heavy damage to communications. Structural damage on the port wing. Interior damage to 7% of compartments. Fire on levels 11 through 30" Number Eight's voice was calm, though the rest of the Seven could hear tension flowing as in undercurrent. "High radiation signature upon impact. Not nuclear weapons though. I postulate that they are using antimatter."

"That indicates a higher level of technology than available to the Colonial forces," Number Five told his comrades. "KEW impacts are damaging their shielding, however."

"Launch Raiders from the other baseships. Task them with interdicting fire between us and the Federation ship. All Raiders should concentrate fire on the shield bubble."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Impact! Heavy damage to her communcations array. The other two ships are launching fighters…..another hundred fighters, at least, Captain. Most of them are headed this way."

Marra looked at his shield information. "83%. OK, helmsman. Give them a moving target. Track with phasers, three-quarter power, wide beam. Dorsal battery is to fire with standard beam, one-half power, and attempt to take out individual ships. Continue to target the larger ships with torpedoes."

Shields flashing with impacts, the Kongo lifted out and away from the incoming fighters, firing phasers at them and launching spreads of torpedoes at the Cylon baseships. As the swarm of Raiders peppered her, her torpedoes were being engaged by the reserve Cylon fighters in a point-defense manner. The first two made it, striking a second baseship and shearing off the outer third of a wing, but the next salvo was successfully defeated. Her phaser fire, however, had more success, knocking several Cylon fighters out of the fight.

Marra looked at this and his heart sank. He had harder punches, but the enemy was hitting him all over. They were in no real danger at the moment, but he knew he might not be able to destroy enough of the small fighters, or enough of the capital ships, to make a difference.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Back on Galactica's bridge, Adama and Kirk shared a glance.

"It's hard to determine what kind of damage that Kongo's doing to the Cylons," Kirk told the Admiral.

"Three baseships plus fighters are impossible to engage with simply one ship," Adama answered the younger commander. "I would advise Captain Marra to withdrawal, especially since you can track the Cylons during FTL travel."

Kirk nodded at him. "Yes…..Enterprise, send to Starbase 12 a full report, plus copies of this battle up to this point on a Priority 2 channel."

"I agree with that, Jim," Marra said, obviously still listening to Kirk and Adama. "We've managed to take out 20 of their fighters, and seriously damage one of their larger ships, but our shields are at 70% and steadily dropping. If we had three more cruisers out here, I think we could stop them down effectively…."

"SIR! NUCLEAR MISSLE INBOUND! IMPACT IN FIVE SECONDS!"

Marra yelled, "All power to shields! Brace for impact!" The hum of increasing power was heard as the Kongo steeled herself, then the ugly sound of impact…..

….then, silence.

"Comlink lost, Captain. Attempting to reacquire communications."

Adama gritted his teeth, and beside him, Laura Roslin winced, her face crimped by empathy as she gazed at the Enterprise crewmembers.

"Jim…are they…." This from McCoy, and Kirk looked at him harshly. "Bones…." He paused, battling down his reaction to the stunning silence. "I don't know."

"I would grieve the loss of Captain Marra. He is a very talented commander," Spock said, and McCoy's ire erupted. "Damn it, Spock…" The flare ended as static and words came back over the link.

"….damage control to the sensory. Damage control reports to the bridge. Jim…you still there?"

Relief was palpable on the Galactica's bridge. "I was just about to ask you the same question, Ken." Jim Kirk looked at Spock, who merely looked back, his stoic expression hinting at the relief he saw in Kirk's face..

"We're still here, although a little toasted. The impact temporarily blinded our visual sensory, and we got some radiation in the outermost areas, but the shields held. They're down to 23%, though, so we are going to withdrawal. I'm plotting a course to you, best possible speed. We'll see you in a few minutes," Marra said, and the link went off.

Kirk waited a half-second. "Enterprise, stand by," he said, then closed the communicator. "We need to meet with Captain Marra once he arrives. Judging by his sensor logs, we might be able to find another way of dealing with these Cylons of yours."

"The only way is to destroy the bastards," Colonel Tigh observed, now strolling up to the group. "They aren't going to stop until we blow them to frackin' Hell."

"You are one of the Cylons that chose to 'stay' human," Spock observed. "If I may ask, why are you so sure that the Cylons won't negotiate?"

Tigh almost shuddered visibly. "First off, I'm Saul Tigh, officer in the Colonial Navy, and I'm no fracking Cylon, as far as I'm concerned. I know this because I've fought in two wars against them, and I can see what they are as well as you can. You heard them, alien……they want to exterminate all of humanity. You, too."

"Colonel…." One word from Adama, and Tigh looked up. "Yes, Sir." Spock raised that eyebrow again, and McCoy turned from the scene.

Adama paused, and spoke to all of the assembled. "When Captain Marra's ship arrives, we can meet in the room we first met in. I am eager to see how your ships stack up against the Cylons," he admitted.

"We will still be ready to jump, won't we?" This from Roslin, and Adama turned to her. "Yes, Madam President. All ships will have proper jump coordinates before we decide to fight or retreat."

Kirk stepped up. "And we'll have a response from Starbase 12 by that time."

"Captain….request permission to begin beam-in of supplies to the population groups." McCoy and his one-track mind. Kirk looked at his doctor and friend, and nodded. "You have ten minutes to get as much out as possible. Also send a request to Command for humanitarian aid for the fleet, top priority."

McCoy nodded, his face clearly showing appreciation. "Thanks, Jim."

Kirk looked up to see the President of the Colonies approach him, and she took his hand. Gratitude was all over her face. "The Colonies thank you as well."

Kirk squeezed her hand, and smiled. "You're welcome. However, save the celebrations until after we see what we're up against."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

In the Galactica's briefing room, Ken Marra tapped his fingers on the table.

He was proud of his crew….they had slowed down the Cylons; in fact Kongo had stopped them in space and force them to rethink their incursion into Federation territory.

That's what Marra wanted to think. His Starfleet side knew that they had only given the Cylons a bloody nose before having to withdraw. Kongo was a Constitution-class starship, but the battle environment in this part of space was one of large capital ships engaging each other at medium range. Neither the shields nor the weapons were built to engage large amounts of fighter craft.

That's what he explained to James Kirk as they sat with Admiral Adama in the briefing room.

"Jim, there is no question that we outgun them ship to ship," he explained. "We severely damaged the lead ship with a spread of torpedoes. They interdicted the remainder with what amounted to a buffer of bullets, but that's all they could do. If we can jam their missile guidance, I think we can stand them off."

"But the big worry are the fighters," Kirk replied. "Their projectile weaponry drains the shields at a rate directly related to the amount of fighters they can get up in the air against us."

Marra nodded, and Adama looked at the two Starfleet officers. "Galactica can sortie out 65 fighters and draw off their fighters while you engage the baseships."

Kirk nodded. "That's an option…but I have another one. Our biggest tactical advantage is that we can track them at warp."

Marra shrugged. "Yes…they can see us in regular space, though. We can't effectively fight them in warp space because our weaponry doesn't operate there."

Kirk shook his head. "No…I understand that. Spock, can you explain what I'm trying to say?"

"Enterprise and Kongo can deploy to intercept the Cylons at the location they are coming out of warp space. The sensor logs of Kongo showed that the warp field showed distinct markers of Cochrane field fluctuation fifteen seconds before they dropped from warp speed. All three ships displayed the same fluctuation; all the time measurements were identical. We can see where they are going to drop out of warp well before they do so, and engage them in a relatively short time span after the enter regular space," Spock told the assembled commanders.

"We get the coordinates, and blanket the coordinates with weapons fire," Kirk explained. "It may not be enough to keep the enemy from deploying their small craft, but it might tilt the balance into our favor."

Adama steepled his fingers. "It's about time we stood and fought," he told the people in the room with him. "We've been running a long time. It's going to feel good going into a battle where the odds are even."

He stood, clearly taking the position as senior commander in the room, and went to the communications box that was on the bulkhead beside the entry hatch. He took the handset off of the cradle, and punched a button.

"Conn, this is Adama. Prepare all available fighters for action. Prepare the ship for combat operations. Inform the fleet that they are to jump to the assigned coordinates in ten minutes, and send the Raptors there with them, loaded for defensive operations. Launch the alert fighters."

Meantime, Kirk opened his communicator. "Enterprise."

"Scott here," came the reply.

"Any reply from Starfleet about the Colonial fleet?"

Scotty responded immediately. "Exeter and the transport Tranquility are en route, and will be there in two days with food supplies, water, and medical teams. Let the Admiral and the President know that we will be able to transport a thousand refugees to the nearest colonized planet, if they so choose.

"We'll make sure they get the information, Scotty. Thank you."

Kirk could hear the grin in Scotty's voice. "Pleasure's all mine, sir."

"We'll be coming back via the shuttle in ten minutes. Any movement from our friends?"

"Nothing, sir. Long range scanners show them moving slowly in this direction at impulse speed.

"Copy that. How's the Kongo?"

"Some overloads, but replacement boards took care of most of the problems. We found some further damage, but that was mostly superficial. Their chief engineer says they'll be ready should those ships warp in."

"Understood. Kirk out." Kirk closed the communicator, and looked at Adama. "We're going to be heading back to the Enterprise.

Marra stood as well. "I'm going to go back to Kongo as well. Jim…thanks for the help with my ship. That's three I owe you, now."

Kirk grinned. "I seem to remember a few scrapes you pulled me out of. Your count might be a little off."

The other captain grinned back, then he and his science officer signaled back to their ship, and disappeared into a pillar of light. Adama watched with fascination….it was an incredible sight. It filled him with hope for his people……the Thirteenth Colony had done very well, indeed.

"Captain…how many ships can you deploy in support of Galactica, in case the Cylons come after us in larger numbers?"

Kirk looked over at the Admiral and thought for a minute. "There are ten more ships like Enterprise and Kongo, but we have several hundred other ships….destroyers, frigates, and the like, plus a ready reserve of older starships. Add in the starbases and defensive platforms, and most of our colonies are secure."

Adama nodded. "They will come in force. Their goal is to exterminate all of humanity. You will have to destroy them."

Jim Kirk looked hard at Adama. "We'll defend ourselves, and you, but I'm not going to sanction the destruction of an entire race of sentient beings that may not pose a threat to the Federation."

Adama's face didn't change, but his eyes, and voice, hardened. "They exterminated twenty billion human beings with no remorse. They will do the same to you if given the chance."

Kirk shook his head. "We won't give them that chance, Admiral."

"You might not have a choice, Captain," Adama blistered. "We fought them in a war where forty million died, and they signed a truce that they held for forty years. That whole time, they built and prepared to fight the war again. They are machines that have one directive…to end human life." He lanced Kirk with a look. "We played defense, and got lazy, and paid the ultimate price for being arrogant. This war will only end when one side has been totally destroyed. You need to keep that in mind."

Kirk thought about arguing the point, but stopped himself: If what the data records from Galactica said was true, there was a definite truth to what Adama was saying to him. However, history in this quadrant had shown there was no good in genocide, no matter the participants. Peace had been achieved, but through deterrence and strength, not by domination. The Cylons, no matter their purpose, were not going to bring the Federation down to their level, and the Colonial refugees would see that once they had lived within the Federation for a time.

"If there is a war, Admiral Adama, we will fight it and do so until we achieve victory. However, exterminating them would make us no better than them, and I am not an advocate for genocide."

Adama paused for a second, remembering Helo Agathon and his moral resistance against transmitting a virus that would have killed millions of Cylons. He looked down at his shoes, and then looked up at the young Starfleet captain in front of him.

"Neither am I, Captain. I don't know if I could give such an order myself. However, I also know that I need to understand the enemy I face.. You have never faced the Cylons, and I have fought them my entire life. Keep your options open, Captain Kirk…..you may find that you need them all."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When James Kirk stepped back onto the bridge of his own ship, he was awash in thoughts about the fleet that he was suddenly tasked with defending.

40,000 humans from twelve colonies, a remnant of a spacefaring civilization of 20 billion. Cyborg organisms bent on their extinction. A 2,000 light-year run from the Cylons, across the divide between the Sagittarius and Orion arms of the galaxy, all with 42 civilian ships in tow. Adama was a masterful commander, and Roslin a very good politician, to have accomplished this.

The data logs from Galactica showed the harrowing journey in detail…..the building of New Caprica, it's occupation by the Cylons and Adama's masterful battle to evacuate the colonists…..the journey through the star cluster……the passage of the fleet through what they called "Hellas' Bend", which had turned out to be a hypergravity wormhole (per Spock's analysis) and had shortened their journey from 20 years to four. 500 children on the ships had never stepped foot on a planet. They were all refugees from a true holocaust.

"Something wrong, Captain?" This from Spock, who had dropped noiselessly from his computer board to Kirk's side. The Captain looked at his friend and shook his head, gesturing at the massive Galactica that had taken station between the Federation starships and the direction that the Cylon ships were presently located.

"No, Spock. Just thinking about them….Adama, the Colonists…" Kirk stepped up and sat in his chair. "I wonder what we would have done, given the same chain of events?"

Spock paused to consider it. "Unknown, though humans are rather resilient. It would be safe to assume that a similar effort would have been made, though events have transpired that clearly favored the Colonists. It is also notable that we chose not to program sentience into our computers, unlike those that the Colonists did."

Kirk nodded, still deep in thought. Then, his eyes widened a bit, and he turned to Spock. "Spock…remember what Adama told us…they passed through the wormhole and the Cylons followed. What would stop the Cylons from pushing in more ships?"

Spock paused. "An invasion? If they truly wished to exterminate humanity, and they had followed the Colonial fleet to complete this, then it would be logical that they would have a reserve force ready."

"Three ships of that size as a scouting and reconnaissance group…..that implies that they have a rather large main fleet," Kirk surmised. "Adama said that they had over a hundred battlestars in the Colonial Fleet, and that had served as a deterrent, so can we assume that the Cylons have a relatively similar number?"

Spock thought for a second. "Judging by the damage that the Kongo inflicted, we have come to the conclusion that a ship like the Galactica could successfully engage a single baseship. Their data files suggest that Admiral Adama engaged two basestars several times in their withdrawal from Colonial space. If that is the case, the Cylons would have to have a large numerical superiority of capital ships in order for them to have a parity with the Colonial forces."

This new tact of thinking filled Jim Kirk with concern. Kongo had problems with the fighter contingent from one basestar….the assembled Starfleet would not be able to stand up to over a hundred baseships and 8,000 fighter craft. Starfleet Command needed to have the information now, and he made his decision, turning to Uhura as he did.

"Uhura, send to Starfleet Command. Priority One. I believe that there is evidence that a large-scale invasion of the Federation is imminent by the race we have recently learned about from the Galactica's commander. Believe it is imperative that we send additional naval forces into the area for further action against the enemy. Sign it and send it immediately, Lieutenant."

Uhura nodded, already working on the message. "Sent, Captain."

Kirk looked at her for another second, frowning as ugly battles were fought in his head. Then, he turned to Spock, who was waiting quietly.

"Sir…sensors show the Cylons have reentered warp space. Direct intercept course with Galactica. They will be in range of our weapons in 14.97 minutes," he told his captain, and Kirk nodded.

"Inform Kongo and Galactica. Go to red alert."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"All fighter squadrons are ready for launch, and all civilian ships are preparing to jump away."

Adama nodded at Colonel Tigh and looked at DRADIS. Bright yellow icons now inhabited the screen….no yellow icons had ever been there before. Up to now, there had only been red (Cylon) and Blue (Colonial). Now, there were two new ones.

They had labels. ENTERPRISE and KONGO.

The Federation ships had provided the Galactica with IFF transmission frequencies and with minute-by-minute updates on the Cylon ships. They were moving in, right at the Fleet, and Adama reviewed his plan for the fourth time.

The Starfleet ships were going to move to a position that would flank the Cylons when they dropped into normal space, and engage them with their weaponry. Galactica would scramble her fighters and open up with her point-defense cannon, drawing off the Cylon fighters long enough to give the smaller Federation ships time to finish off the baseships. It was a simple plan, but one no Colonial fleet commander could ever have tried. The point that the enemy popped out of hyperspace had always been an unknown; defenses usually had to be built that would be able to engage the enemy no matter where in the area they arrived (hence the 360-degree area of fire for the Galactica's PDC's). This ability to track the Cylons was a huge advantage, and might be the only thing that would save the people of the 13th Colony from destruction by the Cylons.

As planned, Adama watched the Kongo and Enterprise rise out of their positions, and move off at high sublight speed. The Cylons could pop up anywhere, so Kirk had decided that the Enterprise and Kongo would move up and away from the battlestar in order to give them room to maneuver, and force the Cylons to fight in three dimensions, rather than two. It was a brilliant tactic, and DRADIS showed them moving off.

"Damned quick ships," Tigh told him. Adama nodded. "They could make it to Earth from here in five weeks….it would take us a half year. They move at 75% of the speed of light with their conventional drive. What I'm concerned about now, however, is their weapons technology. They have to knock those baseships out of the battle as fast as they can."

"We know that at least two of the baseships are damaged….can we hold off that many of they can't?"

"Saul….I don't know. Galactica's been pretty beat up. Two, I'd feel confident. But if we end up here with these Federation ships destroyed, I hope they take two with them," Adama told his friend quietly. "Then we can rejoin the fleet and wait for the reinforcements to arrive."

"If they're worth anything," Tigh mumbled.

Adama looked over at his friend of 45 years. "My gut tells me that they're honorable, and that their on our side. And, if they don't have the ability to defeat the Cylons, maybe they have the numbers to exhaust them for a while…..long enough for us to escape from this part of space, or to build enough of a force to challenge them. Kirk has to recognize the threat to his people."

"We'll see," Tigh responded.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Shields at maximum, internal defense shields on hot standby."

"Impulse engines ready for tight maneuvers."

"All phaser banks charged to full power."

"Damage Control reports ready."

James Kirk let the steady repetition of intraship communications steady his nerves as he looked at the tactical reports. On the viewscreen, the bulk of the Galactica floated off the port side, looking formidable with her flight pods fully extended and her alert fighters pacing her.

Actually, she was a good distance away; Kongo had moved some 2,500 kilometers astern of Galactica, and Enterprise was 250 kilometers above her.

The fleet had distanced themselves from the warships, and Kirk had watched them flash into warp space a few minutes ago. They would reappear a trillion miles from here, near the Federation ships Exeter and Tranquility, and within jump-range of Barrow Prime. A response from Starfleet about his Priority One request was still hours away. Now…it was time to wait for the enemy to appear.

And Jim Kirk hated waiting.

"Cylon ships on mid-range scanners……ETA is three minutes" Sulu popped up from his scanner. "No deviation in course or speed."

Spock straightened up, flicking a control on the screen, showing their respective positions in space…..two blue dots showing the starships, a large green one showing Galactica, and a straight line that bisected the screen.

"I have been able to compute the path of the Cylons down to an acceptable error. They will pass 7.65 kilometers from Galactica's position on their current course. Logically, this will be the point that they drop from warp speed. I suggest that the Kongo and Enterprise target that area first."

Kirk turned to him. "What are the odds that they will drop out of warp there?"

Spock didn't miss a beat. "In the 90th percentile, Captain."

Kirk couldn't resist a slight grin. "And, Mr. Spock….what is an 'acceptable error'?"

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Ten meters, Captain."

Kirk nodded. "Inform Galactica of the latest information," he told Uhura, who immediately did so. "Tell Kongo to target some phaser banks and her torpedoes at that point in space."

After another moment, she responded. "Captain, Galactica has sent coordinates describing an exclusion zone of suppression fire."

"Spock, plot those on the screen and send to Kongo. Send them to the nav computer as well…no reason to take friendly fire," he told them.

The screen now displayed a cone of gray…..the exclusion zone. Narrrowest at Galactica, it spread out to encompass almost four cubic miles of space at the intersection of the Cylon path and Spock's coordinates.

"Go ahead and put the viewer back on."

Kirk's request was followed by the Galactica reappearing…..she was slowly coming around, presenting her broadside to the Cylons.

"Ninety seconds to intercept," Sulu informed the bridge.

"Scott to bridge…..Engine room is ready. Full power whenever you want it."

Kirk punched his comlink. "Prepare power to reinforce the shields against kinietic weaponry, and for phaser fire, Scotty. We can outrun them all day at sublight speed. Tighten down whatever you need to against heavy nuclear attack."

"Doctor McCoy informs me that radiological procedures are ready shipwide, and the outer hull has been locked down," Scott answered, redoubling the assurances McCoy had given him a few minutes earlier when tasked with preparing Enterprise for high-megatonnage nuclear attack.

"Very well, Scotty. Kirk out." He punched the button again, and winced, rubbing his knuckle. "You'd think they could have made these voice-activated by now…."

"Sixty seconds…."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Galactica launched her full compliment of fighters and slowed to engagement speed, while the two smaller starships readied their initial barrage. As the Cylons moved through warp space, a steady subspace field accompanied them, generated by their warp coils. As the mighty computers onboard the Cylon ships counted down, the hybrid sent the signal to her FTL engines, and the power gradient was reduced. This sent out a ripple in the fabric of subspace that moved at Warp 9.9998, making it from the Cylon ships to the sensors onboard Enterprise in a thousandth of a second. Interjectional formulas were then transferred to all three of the human warships in the form of coordinates in space, and weapons were aimed. The Cylons ships were heading into a pincer, and they had no idea what was on the other end of their path.

The Cylon ships shuddered into realspace with a bright flash of residual subspace radiation, and the Federation starships immediately engaged them with long-range phaser fire. Blue lines of phased energy reached out and impacted critical structural junctures, langin bays, and exterior weaponry mounts. Explosions ripped through the lead Cylon baseship within two seconds of their exit of warp space.

The human models of the Cylon race looked at each other with genuine surprise.

"Scanners show two of the non-Colonial human warships in formation near Galactica," Number Five told the assembled Cylon-humanoids. "Ship 332 has been engaged with long-range weaponry, similar to the earlier weapon that they used to engage our Raiders, but with more power."

Number Eight nodded. "The probability is high that this is their standard power for intra-ship combat. All base ships launch fighter craft."

Two of the Cylon baseships began their launch cycles….the third, called 332, was under heavy fire from the Federation ships, and was in distress. Onboard, the control area was full of smoke and arcing circuit boards.

Number Six was shouting over the din of exhaust fans and impacts on the superstructure. "Power to propulsion systems is failing….all FTL engines are offline! Launching bays have been targeted by the non-Colonial ships!"

The Number Five on this ship looked at the others, holding a bleeding arm. "Prepare for download. Send a complete tactical report with a Heavy Raider back through the anomaly and request all possible reinforcements."

332 yawed out of control in space, and Kongo closed in, now letting loose with photon torpedoes. Marra noted the condition of the Cylon baseship, and sent a message back to Enterprise.

"Kirk, this is Kongo. We're freeing you up to engage another ship. Move off and engage at your discretion. Remember those fighters, though….we are tracking them, and they're closing on us."

Kirk looked at Spock, who merely nodded. "Copy that, Kongo. Sulu, hard to port, course 320-mark-16, full impulse. Set phasers to wide dispersal, and present minimum aspect to the incoming fighters."

A mass of 40 Raiders had broken from the main formation that had formed up after launch and were moving in on Enterprise. The screen showed them as a group of dots that were moving against the background of stars, and they swung directly in front of Enterprise as Kirk aimed the starship towards them.

"Get outta my way," he muttered. "Sulu…fire!"

The white starship came around and fired as she accelerated to half the speed of light. Blue beams, wider than the beams she used against the Cylon baseship, lanced out and through the incoming Cylon fighters, forcing them to break into a chaotic form as Enterprise moved through. All along the length of her shield bubble, the impacts of thousands of solid projectiles flashed as she passed right through the center of the formation. Two Raiders were obliterated on her doubled-up forward screens as she flashed through, firing as she did so. Then, freed up temporarily, Enterprise made for the second Cylon baseship.

"Shields at 89%, Captain, but Mr. Scott reports fluctuations on the aft starboard side, near the shuttlecraft bay," Spock reported. "The Cylon baseship is firing conventional missiles."

"Any danger to our shields?"

Spock read the data. "Kiloton yields….high explosives of a kind I have not seen before. No immediate danger. Shield failure is not imminent. However, the fighter group we passed through earlier has reformed and is pursuing us. Impacts registering on the aft shields."

Kirk weighed his options. "Bring the helm amidships. Angle our approach to…mark two, Mr. Sulu. Checkov, phaser bursts at high power, short duration. Set torpedoes to delayed detonation. Proximity range."

"Captain?" Chekov looked back at his captain for a second. Kirk looked back. "A strafing run, Mr. Chekov. Minimum distance of three kilometers, Mr. Sulu."

"Aye, sir." Sulu grinned and brought the ship to her new course.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"He's insane."

Tigh looked at his friend and commander, who was still watching the DRADIS."

"No, Saul…..he's brilliant."

The yellow icon representing Enterprise had come around at high speed and was moving to make a run at the lead Cylon ship. "He's taking both the fighters and the Cylon nukes off the table. They can take a pounding from the conventional weaponry, and the Cylons won't fire a nuclear weapon at this distance to their own ship," Adama explained. "He's using the advantages he has."

"All wings formed up and ready to engage," Tactical reported, and Adama looked at his display. "On my mark, execute suppression fire."

All over the exterior of the massive warship, point defense cannon rose and aimed into space. Over a hundred emplacements, all manned by crews (to guard against computer infiltration), took aim at their selected coordinates.

Adama waited for Enterprise to clear the area of saturation. He stoically watched DRADIS as the ship cleared the blue-shaded area.

"Execute," he ordered.

The Galactica thundered with suppression fire, flashes littering her dark exterior as she emptied space around her with pure brute force. Abeam of her, 62 Colonial fighters engaged their flight engines and moved out to engage the Cylon Raiders.

"All wings, razzle-dazzle, keep out of Galactica's firing solution. Top priority is to free up the friendlies by drawing off the Raiders. Red Squadron, with me. Starbuck, you have Blue Squadron. Cat, you stay home and watch our ass," Lee radioed to the Vipers.

"Copy that, Apollo!" Cat banked low, taking her 18 fighters back to a defensive position.

"Roger that, Apollo!" This from Starbuck, who banked high and to port, taking 20 Vipers with her and made at high speed towards the Kongo, who had come about and was trying to put distance between herself and the Cylon baseship she had engaged. All along her flanks, Raiders maintained high-volume fire.

"F'ath…report!" Marra spun and looked at his tactical readouts on the arm of his command chair. "What's our status?"

"Shields at 61%, with port forward dipping below 50%. No damage control reports on major systems."

"Copy that."

"Sir! Incoming message from a Colonial pilot, identifying herself as squadron leader," said his communications officer, and he pointed at his comm link. "Down here, Lieutenant. This is Kongo, go ahead"

"Commander, this is Lieutenant Thrace, callsign Starbuck. We're coming to free you up. Watch your defensive fire for a few microns."

Marra nodded. "I copy that, Starbuck. Happy hunting. Prepare for us to come about." He turned to the navigator. "Hard to starboard, course zero-seven-zero. Establish an intercept vector with the incoming Colonials and cease fire. Increase power to the shields."

Kongo came about to her navigational right, increased her speed, and made for the physical center of the Viper formation. Starbuck grinned to herself.

"Blue Squadron….special delivery! Weapons free! Yeeee—HAAA!!"

With a battle cry that was both shared and heard by two crews on two warships, Blue Squadron ripped past Kongo and engaged the Raiders directly. The Cylons were forced to break off their attack on Kongo, and she made for open space, chasing light as she did so.

Enterprise, for her part, hummed through space at the second Cylon baseship.

"Cylon ship is increasing fire….shields at 86%. Engineering has stabilized the aft shields.," Spock said over the increased hum of the impulse engines.

Kirk took this in with a bare nod, and hunched in his chair, feeling the momentum compensation in the artificial gravity pull him towards his chair. "Chekov, hit them with the whole kitchen sink in this pass. Full spread of torpedoes and phasers. Target propulsion and power generation areas. Sulu, plot a course that takes us on an ascent plane back towards Galactica, abeam of her suppression fire."

"Aye, Sir."

"Yes, Sir."

The huge Cylon capital ship was firing dozens of missiles a second at the closing Federation ship, Flashes of detonations littered her forward shielding as she erased the distance between them at high sublight speed.

Kirk waited….then, "Now. Fire!"

Enterprise let loose with a full volley of phaser fire, pairing it with two three-torpedo bursts. The impact was near-instantaneous……chunks of the Cylon ship were totally vaporized , leaving gaping holes where the torpedoes could enter deep into the superstructure, detonating with devastating effect.

Flashes of secondary explosions lit up the area around the baseship as Enterprise scorched through, not quite a Cylon ship-length from the tip of a massive wing. In retribution, the Cylons chased her with hundreds of missiles, the impacts thrumming through the shields and reverberating into the deck plates.

Spock spoke from his console. "Captain, two nuclear warheads on an intercept course."

Kirk whipped to Sulu. "Change course….one-zero-seven mark eight, z-plus ten degrees! Chekov…can you detonate those warheads?"

"Attempting to, Sir!" Chekov worked the board feverishly as the Artemis rose and banked, but it was too late. Kirk noted the readout and whacked the shipwide intercom.

"All hands….brace for impact!"

A great hand grabbed Enterprise, and shook it violently. The screen went hazy gray and most of the bridge staff was thrown violently forward, then hard back. Chekov hit the floor hard, rolling to the steps of the gangway before attempting to crawl back to his console. Kirk gripped the arms of his chair, staying put and shouting over the din. "Damage report!"

The thunder stopped. "Shields to 19% on the starboard rear. Two multi-megatonnage impacts at one-eight-seven. Impulse drive operational, warp drive reports nominal. Life support reads slight radiation leakage in the outlying decks. Rear phaser bank is out."

Kirk nodded at Spock. "Uhura, send to Kongo and Galactica that we're OK. Sulu, turn us on our axis, full about, no change in the vector of our momentum. Target the launch area of those missiles and fire."

In space, Apollo watched the Enterprise make her strafing run, take two nukes in her rear, then spin in space and launch a massive bombardment at the missile emplacements on the Cylon ship. The Cylons were forced to back away from the withering fire, and the Raiders rushed in, vainly attempting to spare the baseship a further response from the Federation flagship.

"Frakking awesome," he said quietly to himself. Then, he punched the communications button on his control panel. "Red Squadron, let's go right up the ass of those toasters. Close in as quiet as you can, and fire on my signal. Watch that offensive fire from Enterprise."

The Vipers closed in on momentum only, then, as the Cylons began to engage the retreating Enterprise, the Vipers fired their KEW's, ripping into the 35 Raiders and scattering them out of formation.

Onboard Galactica, Adama turned to his tactical officer. "Status."

"Enterprise has substantially damaged the second Cylon baseship. Kongo has engaged the third. The first ship has moved out of the area at low speed, but we are reading heavy damage to her. She didn't launch any fighters, and there have been no missile launches from her since she arrived."

"Bring us to one-third speed, course three-one-nine. Push us into the gauntlet. Let's try to entice that first ship into action…she might be playing dead," Adama told his navigator. "Let's then……"

"Sir!"

Adama turned. "Yes?"

There was a pause. "Three nukes just hit the Kongo."

"Dear gods……" Adama eyeballed Dualla from across the bridge, and she closed her mouth. "Try to raise them," he ordered her. "Any word from Blue Squadron?"

"On your handset, Sir, at your discretion."

He picked up the black phone. "Starbuck…tell me what you see."

A pause, and a static-filled response. "Admiral, the ship's still there, but she's hurt. She's still returning fire, but moving off at low speed. She took three off her starboard side."

"I copy that, Starbuck," he rasped back to her. "Maintain engagement with the Cylons until further notice."

"Yes, Sir!"

He looked at Tigh. "Full speed. Let's go free up Kongo. Put us in-between her and that baseship. Target main batteries."

Anastasia Dualla interrupted him. "Sir….Kongo reported in….Ccaptain Marra reports that fires are under control and he isn't planning on withdrawal Enterprise has broken off and is swinging around, matching us in mirror form and maintaining fire on the two active baseships."

"Copy. Hook me up with Enterprise."

"Yes, Sir. Captain Kirk coming through to you, Admiral."

He paused before picking up his handset. "Adama to Enterprise."

"Admiral, I noted your course. Thank you for the hand."

"My pleasure, Captain. What is your status?"

Kirk paused. "We're nominal. No real damage to speak of."

Adama nodded, checking the readout again. "Good. What is the status of the Cylon ship you were engaged with?"

Kirk answered. "She's stricken, Admiral. Venting atmosphere and we read that her propulsion systems are critically damaged."

"Good. We…"

"Admiral…the first Cylon ship has begun venting some sort of heavy ionized plasma. We estimate her systems will go critical within the next minute."

Tigh came to his side. "Tylium leakage. They're goners."

"Copy. That's a terminal failure, Captain. Move away from her and let's free up Kongo."

"Yes, Sir. Kirk out."

Adama put his handset down. "Once we get a targeting solution, inform our birds that we will be engaging the baseship directly. Once they acknowledge, bring all batteries to bear on the Cylon baseship that is engaged with the Kongo."

Enterprise, the quicker of the two ships, was in range first, letting loose with phasers on the armored skin of the Cylon ship. Kongo's phasers were no more than half-power by this time, but the firepower from the two ships was still harrowing.

Onboard Kongo, Marra batted smoke from a console and punched in a new course. "Continuing evasive! Bleed power from Environmental into the shields. Shut down all life support to the shuttlebay and to currently non-occupied parts of the ship. Reinforce shields presented to the enemy."

He ignored the answers that floated back to him and concentrated on moving the shuddering ship to a new course. The nuclear attack had killed his navigator, and there were 32 other casualties ship-wide. His warp-drive was out, and his weapons were damaged, but Kongo could still maneuver and give Enterprise time to finish off one of the other ships, or get free enough to pull Kongo out of harm's way.

He watched the thin blue lines of phaser fire still impact the Cylon ship that had heavily damaged his ship, but it was not forcing the Cylons off their attack. Their nuclear missiles were gone….their turrets damaged by return fire from the Kongo….but the kinetic energy weapons and conventional missiles were draining precious power from the Kongo's emergency reserves.

"Sir!"

Marra looked up at the screen, and saw the huge blunt nose of the Galactica pushing into nearby space. Then, after a few more seconds, flashes appeared along her forward nose and landing bays. Volleys of heavy fire were flung from Galactica towards the Cylon baseship, and impacts appeared along the whole length of the enemy spaceship.

"Excellent! Cease fire, push that power to the shields and engines. Engineering! Best speed out of…."

Marra felt the ship jolt, and he grinned through his sweat. "All stop! Kill the engines!"

His weapons officer turned to him, and Marra nodded to him.

"What is it, Sir?"

Marra smiled larger. "You know what that is, Chief! That's Jim Kirk!

On the screen, photon torpedoes flashed from above and behind Marra's point of view and smacked into the baseship with devastating effect. Along with the heavy bombardment from Galactica, the Cylon ship was withering from the fire. Kongo was pulled from the battle by Enterprise, which was still firing at the Cylon ship, while Galactica put herself between the Federation ships and the Cylons.

Jim Kirk looked at Spock. "Status?"

"Engines are at one-half astern. We have Kongo in tow, and we have beamed 83 injured onboard."

Kirk nodded. "Maintain fire on that Cylon ship as Galactica permits. Aim for the….."

A flash in the distance….an explosion the size of Manhattan erupted as the Cylon ship initially targeted in the battle detonated. Kirk winced at the view, and turned to the screen as the ship under fire from the Galactica flashed into warp space.

Spock saw this, and turned to the screen. "Tracking, sir. Speed is warp six, in a straight line back towards their stated point of entry into this part of the galaxy. The remaining Cylon ship is adrift, and is operating at very low power."

Kirk stood. "Radio Galactica. Inform them Starfleet will deal with the remaining warship. We need to get a science team out here and a large boarding contingent to secure the ship and get whatever information we can out of her. Until then, we have to tend to Kongo and treat her crew. Inform Marra that we are at his disposal."

"Aye, Sir," Uhura responded.

Spock dropped from the science console. "It appears as if we have a new enemy, Captain."

Kirk looked at his friend. "It looks like we have new friends, Mr. Spock. A lost tribe…..did they come from us? Or, did we come from them? Why the shared language…the names…parallel evolution? What brought them here?"

Spock shrugged in his Vulcan way. "Unknown. Maybe as we bring them to Earth, there will be more answers. Logically, they are humans, and we share a civilizational relationship with them, so their point of origin may very well be Earth, as they claim."

"Well…I suppose we'll find out." Kirk watched the Colonial vipers return to the massive Galactica, their job of destroying the Cylon fighter cover complete. "Either way, it has been a hell of a day, Mr. Spock. Hasn't it?"

The one raised eyebrow answered Kirk's question.

"Secure from general quarters."

43


	2. Chapter 2

NOTE: Some of the information in this chapter is based on the BSG: 2003 Episode "33"

"All squadrons, Galactica Actual. All fighters are recalled. Search and rescue craft are ordered to begin operations. Tie in audio to Channel one-three for support from Federation starship Enterprise. Enterprise, go ahead with shuttlecraft launch and transporter activity."

The smooth, crisp tones from Anastasia Dualla were responded to by the deeper, musical voice of Nyota Uhura.

"We copy, Galactica Actual. Shuttlecraft Galileo and Copernicus launching. You have control of the nearspace traffic. Kongo has lost primary communications array and will communicate via low-band subspace with us. Long-range scanners show clear."

Dualla nodded. 'We copy, Enterprise. Your path is clear to maneuver to Kongo for relief and repair. We are ready to assist."

Uhura replied. We copy, and thank you, Galactica Actual."

On the bridge of the Enterprise, the combat watch was being relieved with replacement personnel. Sulu had transported over with a damage control team to the Kongo to aid in getting her ready to warp back to Starbase 18, while Spock had left the bridge to go and meet with Chekhov and the Combat Review Team to analyze the Cylon ships and their battle tactics. Of the bridge crew that had been on the bridge during the battle, only Lt. Uhura and Captain Kirk remained.

"Captain's Log, supplemental," Kirk began, speaking quietly while sitting at his command chair. "We are continuing search and rescue operations in tandem with the Colonial battlestar. Immediate post-engagement analysis shows that the Federation ships do indeed outgun the Cylon capital ships, but the presence of the smaller attack craft mitigates the advantages of our weaponry. Shielding is eventually weakened by the number of kinetic weapon impacts, which Mr. Spock estimated to be nearly 9,000 from the fighter craft alone. Phasers are effective against the fighter craft, but wide-dispersal shots lack the ability to punch through the armor of the individual fighters; they must be individually targeted. More analysis is ongoing."

Kirk punched the recorder activation button to shut it off, and rubbed his chin. The return message from Starfleet Command was inbound, he knew, and he was ticking off their response in his mind…probably composed mostly of two words, he mused:

Prime Directive

In and of itself, this wasn't the case of the Enterprise interfering, he knew….the Galactica had initiated contact by jumping their Raptor into the vicinity of the Enterprise, and Kirk's crew had followed all accepted protocols in the tracking of a fleet passing through Federation space. The Kongo had also followed the Directive when she intercepted the Cylon force, and once they were found to be aggressive, responded accordingly.

But, Jim Kirk knew, people with briefcases were not to be trusted. It was if the people that had designed the phaser were to be trusted when talking about starship maneuvers…..there was a disconnect that existed between the desk-riders and the starship captains on the frontier.

He'd never be like that, he promised himself. For the hundredth time.

"Captain? Captain Marra is hailing….he says Kongo is warp-ready and requests permission to depart for Starbase 76 after we reclaim our medical and damage-control parties."

Kirk swung to Uhura and nodded. "Very well. Signal Galactica and inform them that Kongo is departing shortly."

A pause. "Galactica Actual copies, and sends thanks to Kongo," she iterated, a smile ghosting her features. "Admiral Adama thanks captain Marra for 'rolling the hard six'."

Kirk grinned back, then turned to look at the large screen that showed the large storm-cloud colored Galactica and the brighter, more familiar Kongo. After a few minutes, the Kongo slowly turned, pushed slowly out of the immediate area, then accelerated and flashed into warp space.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

STARFLEET COMMAND

STARDATE 3455.20

COMMUNICATION-Priority ONE

TO: COMMANDER, USS ENTERPRISE; COMMANDER, USS KONGO

RE: COLONIAL REFUGEE FLEET

AFTER PRELIMINARY REVIEW, STARFLEET COMMAND HAS AUTHORIZED HUMANITARIAN AND MILITARY AID TO THE COLONIAL REFUGEES DISCOVERED ON STARDATE 3453. FIRST CONTACT PROTOCOLS ARE TO BE FOLLOWED PER REG 221, SECTION 2B, 'CONTACT WITH NON-BELIGERENT OR FRIENDLY SPACEFARING RACES'.

MILITARY ASSETS ARE BEING MOVED INTO YOUR QUADRANT, INCLUDING USS REPUBLIC, USS HOOD, AND USS YORKTOWN. ENTERPRISE IS ORDERED TO REMAIN AND ACT AS FLAGSHIP FOR THIS DEPLOYMENT. FURTHER CYLON INCURSIONS ARE TO BE CONSIDERED PROVOCATIVE AND THE USE OF FORCE IS AUTHORIZED.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

In the Enterprise conference room, Jim Kirk sat with his counterpart from the Galactica and transcribed the gist of the document.

"I think that the presence of the Galactica, in cooperation with the Federation starships, should allow us to present a united front against further attempts by the Cylons," Kirk told Adama as the latter read the document.

"Also, your starships are having a hard time dealing with the fighter screen that the baseships are bringing to the table," the older man said. He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "It looks to me that your screens aren't made for solid impacts."

Kirk felt a little defensiveness, but forced it down, recognizing the truth of the statement. "The local military powers have tended towards energy weapons and what you would consider mid-sized capital ships. With our manner of energy generation, hull sizes can be smaller, and with shielding, we can protect ourselves without the bulky armor your ships have."

Adama let slip a small grin, sharing the younger man's feelings for his home ship. "Six of one, half-dozen of the other. Looks to me as if our technology diverted from a shared path a while back. Either way, we can help each other in a fight."

Adama leaned back in his seat, after sighing and replacing his glasses. "I don't have a lot to offer, except my thanks. The decision-making process in everything that has to do with my people rests with President Roslin, save the military."

Kirk nodded. "That's how it is in the Federation as well….Starfleet is just the military arm. The Federation Council functions like your Quorum, except that Starfleet has a voting representative and advisor."

"Wish we had that." Adama's response was tinged with dry humor. He paused for a second, letting the quiet act like a segue into another subject. "The President says that the people on our ships are being treated well."

Kirk nodded. "I heard the humanitarian aid had begun once the Colonial ships made the rendezvous." He paused for a moment. "I'm sure President Roslin has already begun talks with the Federation officials that were being sent from Barrow."

"Can we communicate in real-time with her?"

Kirk immediately recognized that the interest behind the question was not pure professional curiosity. The shielded eyes of the old man showed the affection he had for the woman. Adama picked up on the recognition, and he narrowed his eyes, his estimation of the Starfleet officer's awareness revised upwards a few notches.

"Yes, Admiral, we can. Do you wish to speak to her privately?"

Kirk saw the Admiral's eyes narrow at the implied relationship, and there was a pause as Adama turned Kirk's statement over in his head. Then, as if facing something difficult and coming to a decision, William Adama straightened and looked Kirk in the eye.

"Captain," he said, his rough voice conveying deep meaning that both men understood, "I would."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Cylon nomenclature had not yet given a name to the anomaly that had enabled both the Colonial refugees and the Cylon forward scouting mission to jump the great distance between the arms of the galaxy. The fact that it lay outside the outer boundary of Federation space had kept it from direct observation by Federation scientists, hence the sudden appearance of the Galactica and the fleet.

The Cylons, however, were now paying all sorts of attention to it. And it had a name…the Portal to Earth.

3,500 miles from the portal, 17 baseships had gathered in space, all huddled around a damaged baseship as if offering comfort….which, in their own way, they were.

Onboard one of the baseships, a group of humanoid Cylons were analyzing the battle with the Galactica and the Federation starships.

"It is clear that we can defeat them with the use of our Raiders and nuclear missiles."

"The presence of their shielding reduces the effectiveness of our present tactics."

"They seemed to know where we would jump to. Can they track us as we jump?"

"How many of these ships do the humans have?"

"Their weaponry is superior in ship-to-ship exchanges. We have a distinct disadvantage."

"They have a different power generation and FTL technology."

At the head of a long conference table, a Number One (we can call him Cavil) listened with practiced impatience. He tapped his finger on the table and pulled on a cigar that was clenched between his teeth. After several minutes of hearing the questions being batted back and forth, along with technical answers and general suppositions, he stood up, took the cigar from his mouth, and banged his hand on the table.

"OK…OK…we know they have neat little ships and nice shiny guns," he acidly told the assembled group. "We also know they have FTL communications, as we used when we were tracking the Olympic Carrier. Lastly, we know that we severely damaged one of their ships in our little adventure. The question is, do we go through and attack in force?"

A Three looked at him. "This requires a vote."

Cavil rolled his eyes. "Of course it does. If I want to defecate, it requires a vote. Fine. The question is, do we send the fleet through the Portal to Earth, and attack the humans on the other side?"

A pause. "Who votes 'Yes'?"

Hands were raised, and there was a quick count.

Cavil nodded. "Five vote to go. We will go."

A Six (a dissenter) shook her head. "We have no idea….."

Cavil rudely cut her off. "Melissa, does this 'God' you say guides us tell us that in order to do his will, we should exterminate the humans?"

She frowned at his sarcasm, but she nodded.

"Then," he finished, "consider this a wonderful, happy time of prayer." He pulled the cigar to his mouth. "We can go take the lives of those humans that 'God' created…..such a logical faith we have, isn't it?"

Coldly smug with his statement, he sat back down and looked at the quiet Cylons.


	3. Chapter 3

NOTE: The commander and first officer of the Federation vessel noted in this chapter is based on characters developed by Diane Carey in the Star Trek novels _Dreadnought!_ and _Battle Stations! _

The USS Manchester had been assigned to the subspace anomaly that connected Cylon and Federation space upon it's location by the Starfleet Research Corps. Once the Cylons had been deemed hostile, she had been sent there at maximum warp…a journey of six days.

On her bridge, Captain Piper, a native of the Centauri colony, was looking at a fuel consumption report and trying like mad to stay busy. A week at Warp 7, while taxing to the engineers, was boring to the point of frustration to the young Starfleet commander. She was glad that their destination was within long-range sensor range.

"Tactical…..analysis. What's out there?"

From his hybridized station, Commander Sarda stood, his blondish hair and Vulcan ears mute testament to both his differences from the mostly human crew, and the majority of Vulcans themselves. "The anomaly is 1,200 kilometers in diameter, and has a depth of 3,400 meters. Sensor scans cannot penetrate to the other end, but we are able to make detailed scans of the object and the surrounding space. There are no vessels detected in the immediate vicinity of the anomaly at this time."

On the screen, a diagram of the anomaly appeared, and rotated through three dimensions…..for all of its scientific mystery, Piper concluded to herself that it looked like a dinner plate. "So, we can actually maneuver around it and behind it without entering it."

"That is correct," Sarda responded. "Matter is passing through the anomaly perpendicular to it's long axis, and only along one vector. This means, of course, that vessels entering our region of space from the anomaly will enter from only one side. So, yes, we can go 'behind' it, as you describe."

Piper looked up at him, her eyes smiling at her friend of many years. "As I describe?"

The Vulcan gave her an unsmiling smile. "Yes."

She grinned in spite of herself, and returned to her command chair. "Helm, bring us around the opposite side of the anomaly…..course 112-mark-7. Push us into an ascent trajectory, so that, by our current view, we are above and behind the entry point for any enemy vessels. I would bet that if Enterprise's data is correct, those Cylons are as blind as to what is over here as we are to what's over there."

"Aye, Sir." The Manchester altered her course and attained the new heading, looping around in a gentle turn. A few minutes later, she entered real-space and slowed to a stop relative to the anomaly.

Piper punched the intercom button on her command chair. "All hands, this is the captain. Initiate yellow alert, bring all weapons and tactical systems to standby. Begin electronic and computer countermeasures, and all science and defense personnel are to begin a full analysis of the anomaly. A full briefing will begin in one hour." She punched the toggle to the 'OFF' position and shifted in her seat. "Let's see what we got here."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"The anomaly is 1,230 kilometers at its widest axis," Sarda began, "this being its maximum diameter. Observations have detected a rhythmic contraction, unrelated to the amount or mass of material passing through. The mean depth is constant, averaging 1,411 meters. The temperature of the anomaly is 19 degrees Kelvin, thus it is radiating a slight amount of spectral energy in the radio bandwidth. Subspace fluctuations are within parameters observed in the past from similar phenomena. No emissions from the anomaly observed to this point are in any way threatening to the ship."

Piper nodded. "Tactical?

Her weapons officer, Trent Yie, stood up. "Simulations show that neither our engines nor our weapons have a discernable effect on the anomaly. When we made our closest approach, there was no change in the subspace field that the anomaly is emanating. There is no gravitational field, so sensor information is crisp and clean outside of the visible surface of the anomaly. We will see anything that comes out of the object, but whatever comes out will be instantly aware of our presence."

"So we could warp through the anomaly to the other side?"

Yie nodded. "The data strongly suggests that, Sir."

When Yie returned to his seat, Sarda spoke up. "Radiation and residual subspace resonance readings from objects passing through suggest that the terminus of the other end of the wormhole is here, in this galaxy, and is in this timeframe. Passage through the anomaly does not affect spacetime."

Piper nodded. "To this point, our orders have been, for the most part, classified. Upon our arrival, I was instructed to give you the remainder of our orders: As you know, the Kongo and Enterprise managed to defeat two Cylon capital ships and damage a third in two engagements. What you don't know is that Starfleet has sent a battle group to rendezvous with the Colonial warship near Barrow. They are banking on the Cylons to counter attack, and they want to keep the location of the inner colonies and Federation an unknown. Our mission, in addition to mapping and researching the anomaly, is to act as a sentry and maintain a defensive posture should the Cylons come back through. We're the tripwire."

Henry Wadsworth, the chief medial officer, looked at his captain. "Sir….if two Constitution-class starships had their hands full with three of their ships, why did they send a Saladin-class destroyer?"

Piper paused for a second, deciding how to answer. "Truth is, because they are trying to draw the Cylons in," she honestly answered. "All the reports and data we have show that our ships are ahead of theirs technologically, and have a decided advantage in speed. We are going to avoid a toe-to-toe slugfest with them…if engaged, we are to retreat to where the Enterprise and her battle group are waiting. Once there, we will turn and fight, if required. Kirk will have the overall field command, and he has been ordered to deliver an ultimatum to the Cylons before we engage them militarily. Starfleet believes that we can fight them here more successfully than if we sent a task force through the anomaly."

Sarda added, "A victory here would act to 'close the gate' to the Cylons, in a strategic sense. If it is too costly to continue pursuing the Colonial remnant, the Cylons may decide to stay on their side of the anomaly and forgo their continued war."

Piper nodded again. "And, the Colonial forces, such as they are, cannot maintain their defenses for much longer. We have resupplied their ships, and helped bring their military forces to an improved level of readiness, but they are in no condition to continue."

Wadsworth folded his arms. "So….we wait?"

Piper stood up. "Until relieved."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

At the time of the command staff meeting onboard the Manchester, there was a small fleet taking shape at the site of the first battle.

Onboard Enterprise, crewmen and women lined up on the observation deck to take a look at the sight of the massive Galactica, flanked by two Constitution-class starships, three Tucker-class frigates, and a Jupiter-class supply and replenishment ship, the USS Pluto.

Then, in a flash and multicolored burst, the USS Hood broke into realspace, her escort ships Xerxes and Columbus appearing seconds later. The three ships slowed and took up station above and behind Galactica. Now, with Enterprise, the battle group was complete.

Above the gathered off-duty personnel, the intercom buzzed and Uhura's voice could be heard over the noise of conversation. "Captain's meeting has been scheduled for 1800 hours…all ship commanders and first officers are required to attend. All departmental quartermasters are to have their supply requests transmitted to Lieutenant Y'tett onboard USS Pluto no later than 1900 hours. Full declassified mission briefing will be broadcast tomorrow morning at 0800 hours, with a repeat at 1300 hours and at 2000 hours."

Commander Spock stood apart from the group of crew, observing them with his familiar detached interest. He turned his head slightly when the entrance door to the observation deck slid open and his commanding officer strode in.

Kirk appraised the situation, and with a look at Mr. Spock, he went over to the replicator and got himself a cup of coffee. "Mr. Spock….how is the crew?"

"If you are asking about their interactions, they appear to be within accepted norms of stress and sociability," he answered, pulling a wry look from his captain. "Anything else would be supposition."

"OK," Kirk responded, sipping on the coffee. "That's not necessarily what I was looking for, but it'll do. Any further reports on ship's status, and that of our friends out there?"

"All repairs are complete to the Enterprise. Mr. Scott has beamed over to the Galactica and is meeting with their engineering staff. Starfleet approved the limited sharing of sensor equipment with the Colonial forces, but permission for sharing weapons technology has been, as you would say, 'sent upstairs'," Spock told him. "The fuel that the Galactica is using is a processed derivative of what we would call triyttrium-4-oxide, which is found primarily on airless rocky bodies. Their designation of the raw ore is tylium ore, and the refined fuel is tylium. It has a remarkably high energy potential per gram, and they use it for both propulsion and energy production. The Pluto has converted one of its replication plants to refining the Colonial stores of tylium ore, and Galactica will be fully fueled in less than three hours."

Kirk nodded. "Anything else I should know before going on duty?"

"Yes," Spock continued. "Captain Piper has sent a subspace message, reporting that the Manchester is at the anomaly and has initiated picket duty."

"Good. Piper's a good commander. She'll keep a watchful eye for the Cylons," Kirk told his first officer. "I'm going to the bridge. If you come across anything new, let me know."

"Acknowledged," Spock answered him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"We can tie in the sensors to your DRADIS system, albeit with a wee bit o' tweaks," Mr. Scott said, eyeballing the DRADIS computer and its interfaces. "We'll isolate it from the rest of the network, so your bonnie Admiral donna' have t' worry about viral attack."

Tyrol nodded, holding the tricorder and looking at the sensor module the Starfleet engineer had brought over. "We're going to have to build a power coupling that will step down the amps your equipment is going to draw."

"Aye," Scotty answered. "No problem at all. We'll mount the sensor pods on the upper bow and lower stern of Galactica, then, giving you a fine, wide arc of vision." He smiled. "We'll get this old lady to open her eyes a bit in no time at'all." He pulled out his communicator and started giving commands to his engineers back onboard Enterprise.

Tyrol grinned back….he was getting to like Scotty. Once Scotty siched off of his communicator, he stood back up. "What's Earth like?"

Scotty looked at him. "Blue skies, lots of water. Busy, busy, with all the ships meetin' an' greetin' in orbit. Six billion souls planetside. One large satellite, about a quarter the size of the primary. We've had our problems, but it'sa beautiful little planet," he answered, a smile forming on his face. "You'll be there before'n you know it. Now, let's get this housing apart and get your sensors up an' runnin'."

"I'd like that," came the raspy voice of William Adama, who was entering the DRADIS control room. "It'll be nice to see the enemy before they're within missile range. Do we have a time estimate on the installation?"

Tyrol turned at a transporter chime, heralding the arrival of two more Starfleet technical support staff, then turned back to Adama. "Sorry, Sir…not used to things appearing out of empty air."

"Understood. Me neither."

"Three hours, maybe four, given we can replicate power couplings and Mr. Scott here can get the two systems to talk to one another." Tyrol picked up his tool box. "I'll have a better answer in a half hour or so."

"Good. Colonel Tigh is on duty in CIC, so report your findings to him. I will be going over to Enterprise for the mission briefing in 30 minutes. I get to be 'beamed' over, so it's my turn to appear out of thin air," he told Tyrol, a slight crinkle around his eyes. "Make sure my ship is ready, Chief."

"Yes, Sir," Chief Tyrol told him. "I will."

With that, Adama moved on, and Tyrol noted that Scotty was looking at him with a small grin. "Laddie," he started, "We have to have a talk about yer repair estimates…."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As the command staff of the battle group was meeting, the duty shifts were changing on the USS Manchester. Captain Piper was on her way to the bridge.

She strode through Deck 4, chewing on the Danish she'd gotten from the mess deck replicator when the red alert klaxon sounded. Immediately, she broke out into a trot, hearing the baritone voice of Commander Sarda coming over the shipwide speakers:

"Red Alert. Red Alert. Red Alert. All hands to battlestations. Captain Piper to the bridge."

The turbolift in front of her swooshed open, and she fairly leapt into it, finishing her Danish by indelicately stuffing it into her mouth. Frantically chewing it, she managed to swallow it and brush the crumbs from her command tunic before the lift slowed and opened up into the bridge.

"Report!"

Sarda stood from the command chair. "We started to read slight changes in the anomaly, and we pulled back to ten light-minutes from the entrance point. Three minutes after the variations began, we imaged this," he pointed to the screen.

On it, Cylon ships were slowly moving away from the anomaly at low impulse speed. Piper studied the image, noting that the magnification was on full. "How many ships?"

"Sensors indicate thirteen ships, but the subspace variations have not ceased, thus indicating the entry of more enemy ships."

Piper took her seat. "Have we been scanned?"

"Negative."

Piper took her seat. "Prepare a message buoy and download everything we've recorded, and fire it back to Starfleet Command. Helm, lay in a course to the Enterprise, best possible speed." She pushed a button on her command chair. "Engineering?"

Her Tellarite engineer, Unhooth, picked up immediately. "Yes, Captain."

"We're going to need everything you've got for the next 36 hours. What speed can we shake out of Manchester?"

A pause. "We can give you warp 7.5 without stressing the engines or hull."

Sarda did some figuring in his head. "If the Cylons follow the same path, we will reach the rendezvous point 12.3 hours before they do."

Piper frowned. "Not enough time for Starfleet to reinforce…" She shook herself out of her reverie and looked to her helmsman. "Ahead warp 7.5."

The Manchester turned slightly, then vanished in a blast of light.


	4. Chapter 4

The conference room was empty, save one lone form that sat at the end of the long, grey table. The lights were dimmed, just showing the glint of tan fabric and gold striping at the cuffs. The young man, barely 35 years old, sat quietly and ran over the information that had been delivered to him by his communications officer.

Fifteen.

Fifteen Cylon baseships had passed into space on this end of the time-space anomaly, and had set course for the point in space where they had last battled the humans….namely, the Kongo, Enterprise, and the Colonial battlestar. The Manchester was racing ahead of the Cylons, set to rendezvous with Task Force One (newly named by Starfleet) in less than an hour.

Meaning they had twelve hours.

The subspace relay in the region had, of course, picked this time to go on the fritz, and the message from Captain Piper had not been received until ten minutes ago. This malfunction, manageable in almost every other situation, now held the Federation and Colonial warships hostage…Starfleet would not be able to send reinforcements in time, and orders had been given for the Cylons to be met here before they arrived at the approaches to the densely-populated regions of the Federation.

Jim Kirk was an exceptional talent in commanding a starship, but he was dealing with the idea of commanding nine starships and the massive Galactica. He wasn't frightened by the prospect, daunting as it was, but he knew he wasn't the man to command a fleet of ships, in battle or otherwise. Give him his ship, and he'd follow the orders given him. Of course, he'd follow the orders sent to him by Starfleet, but there had to be a better way.

Such were the thoughts of James T. Kirk when the doors opened, and a figure appeared, flanked by the familiar silhouette of Mr. Spock.

"Captain," Spock began, "Admiral Adama."

Adama raised his head slightly, narrowing his eyes and looking at Kirk. "If this is an inconvenient time, Captain…."

Kirk shook his head and waved his hand, beckoning him to enter the room. "No, no….come in. Thank you, Mr. Spock."

The Vulcan tilted his head, and the Colonial officer came in, crossing the space between him and Kirk, and sitting down a few chairs away from him.

The eyes narrowed again. "Something bothering you, Captain?"

Jim Kirk smiled at the rough voice, recognizing the older man's intuition. "The way you as that question" he began, "reminds me of how my dad would ask that question."

Adama didn't smile, but he looked down, eyes full of thoughts. "In some ways, you remind me of my son, Lee. Talented, young, full of experiences, and able to do anything you wish to do." He paused for a moment. "You are more focused, though…..more aware of who you are and where you want to be in the universe. Lee….he's still trying to find his place." The sad timbre of the voice was reflected somewhat in the eyes, and in the way the lines around them turned and changed as he thought of his son.

Kirk looked at the older man. "Do you have any other children?"

"One more son…..Zac….he died in pilot training."

The pain Adama felt seemed to firm him up, and he straightened to look at the younger man. "But, I've been lucky. I have family left to me."

Kirk nodded. "Admiral…..I want you to take command of the task force."

Adama didn't outwardly react to the suggestion, but he was surprised. "Why?"

Kirk didn't pause. "You are the only commander in place that has real experience fighting the Cylons, and you have experience commanding multiple ships." The last was a guess, but since Adama was an admiral, Kirk thought it a good chance he'd commanded a fleet, or something familiar. "If you refuse, I will not hold it against you. I understand the position might be uncomfortable to you, and if there was another solution to what I see as a problem in fighting them, I would jump at it. It's highly irregular, as you are not a Federation commander, but I think it's our best choice."

Adama sighed, and looked hard at Kirk. "You don't have a problem of confidence, Captain. You have a problem with the orders. You don't want to command the task force."

Kirk slowly nodded. "True," he mused, "but I'm not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth and do nothing. To me, this solves two problems. It allows all of us to work to our strengths."

"Are you the most experienced Federation commander on site?"

Kirk nodded. "Longest by more than a year."

Sagely, Adama nodded. Jim Kirk was, by all means, an exemplary starship commander…..you could see it in how he carried himself and in how his crew held themselves. It was what he wanted to be, and what he believed, deep down, he was born to do. Adama knew a few battlestar commanders that were like that. The best of that bunch, he knew, were the one in a thousand that, like the young man in front of him, weren't battle-hungry or hyper-focused on promotion or fame. Jim Kirk, for all of his confidence, had humility, and knew what he was.

Jim Kirk saw the deliberation behind the wizened eyes. "I can make a difference," he said, pausing for a second and pointing to the doorway, "in that chair." It was almost a plea, from one commander to another.

"Very well," Adama said, looking at his lap. "I will do so. I need to have an idea of what your starships are capable of in realspace. My plan will be very general, and will leave the ship captains a fair amount of leeway in the execution of the battle." He looked up at the Federation captain. "I was told that you received a communication from your picket ship."

Kirk nodded. "The Cylons will be here in twelve hours, give or take."

Adama blinked at that. "We have five capital ships, and four escorts, plus the Galactica. What are we facing?"

Kirk locked his eyes on the Colonial. "Fifteen."

"Fifteen." Adama's repetition hung in the air like a death knell. "We can't hold off fifteen baseships. We had a problem with three. Is there a way we can withdrawal or reinforce?"

Kirk shook his head. "Our orders are to meet them here, away from the core Federation systems. Starships are on the way, but they will not be here in time."

"Except to pick up the pieces," Adama bitterly added. "Fifteen…"

He stood up and stepped away from the table, a frown on his face as he played the scenario over in his mind.

After a few moments, Adama tilted his head, frozen as an idea formed in his head. "The largest problem we have is the fighter contingent onboard the Cylon baseships," he began.

"Correct. I'm confident that we have the capability to defeat them ship-to-ship."

Kirk stood up and walked to where Adama had paced. "You have an idea?"

"We use the Galactica as bait. Tie up their fighters and their attention. We can't track you when you use your FTL drives, and neither can the Cylons. Maybe keep one of your starships with the Galactica, lend a bit of credence to the trap," Adama told him. "Once fully engaged, the Federation starships can arrive and initiate their attack."

Kirk gave it some thought. "Fifteen on one? Even for a short time, that might be too much for you to handle."

Adama nodded, looking up with his characteristic intensity. "Maybe. It's dependent on how well we set the trap. Galactica's job will be to occupy the fighters while your ships gain tactical surprise."

"Enterprise will stay with Galactica," Kirk said. "We were with you when the three baseships attacked."

"Makes sense."

There was another pause, as the two men silently stood, appraising each other.

"Let's get the other ship captains over here," Adama responded. "Let's get them on the same page."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Thirty minutes after the Manchester arrived, her captain was walking down the corridor and to the Enterprise conference room. Once she entered, she was offered coffee and she took a cup with a nod to the server.

She noted Captains McAfee of the Hood, Huggins of the Republic, and Evans of the Yorktown….all young captains (like herself). The other ships were represented as well by their captains, and she worked on recalling their names to memory. After a few seconds, she sighed inwardly and plunged in, shaking hands and nodding greetings to the assembled commanders.

In the front of the room, James Kirk and an older man in a blue uniform were talking together, a small distance away from the nearest group. Deciding that that group looked the most promising, she made her way towards them.

Jim Kirk noticed her first. "Captain Piper…welcome. This is Admiral William Adama, the commander of the Battlestar Galactica."

They shook hands, Piper grasping Adama's hand firmly. "My pleasure, Sir."

The older man nodded. "Thank you. For your early warning as well."

Piper nodded, the statement flipping a switch in her mind. "Thank you, Admiral," she responded to Adama, then she turned to Kirk. "Captain, we managed to get a long-range scan of the subspace relay. We picked enough evidence to say it was some sort of disruptor fire…..probably Romulan, given the area."

"Romulan?"

Kirk turned to Adama. "Another insterstellar civilization, politically aligned against the Federation at this time. They are of the same species as Mr. Spock, though a sect with a different belief system."

"Aliens? It's good you found us first, Captain," Adama told him. "It's actually been a hell of a surprise that my people haven't reacted strongly to the different species that have been onboard the Galactica from the Enterprise."

Kirk furrowed his brow. "Why?"

Adama gave him a wry look. "We can discuss that later, Captain. It's a long story. Suffice to say, my people have not been exposed to other species of interstellar life."

Kirk nodded, filing away the unasked questions as he turned and strode to the head of the table. "Ladies, gentlemen……let's be seated and start the meeting."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As the meeting was going on, Mr. Spock had gone to the Galactica to aid the technical team and work up the newly-installed sensor array. Making his way to the command area, he met up with Lt. Gaeta, who was on his way to relieve the OOD watch.

"You are one of the Federation officers?"

Spock looked at him, but continued walking. "I am."

"We were told that you were from a different species…a Volcom?"

"I am a _Vulcan_," Spock corrected the Colonial officer, "and that is a different species. However, I am half-human….my mother is human, my father is Vulcan."

Gaeta nodded, turning the information over in his head, more intrigued than spooked by the revelation that there was intelligent life other than human. "How would a human woman meet a Vulcan and fall in love?"

Spock turned, stepped through an open hatch, and walked into the command center. "My mother was a linguist, and my father an ambassador to earth. Their meeting was a logical occurrence, given their job duties."

Gaeta met for a few seconds to transfer the watch, and returned to Mr. Spock's side after a minute, continuing to make small talk. "I bet you're happy about that, aren't you?"

Spock looked at Gaeta. "No. Happiness is an emotion. Vulcans," he said, "utilize logic when interacting with others and life. So, I experience no happiness at the fact that my parents met. It is fortuitous where my existence is concerned, but I am not 'happy' about it."

"Oh," Felix answered, a bit put off.

Spock sighed imperceptibly. "Mr. Gaeta," he began, "please do not understand my answer as a 'brush-off', as Dr. McCoy would say. In fact, I had some questions for you about your FTL drive."

Gaeta brightened up. "Yes…absolutely! I had some as well. Go ahead."

"Explain the steps you take to plot your entry and exit into warp space."

Gaeta furrowed his brow. "Warp space? We don't call it that," he hesitatingly said, "but we plot it like this….."

The lieutenant went through the process, plotting it on paper and then into the navigational computer. Once done, he looked up at Spock. "We then send coordinates to the fleet, spin up the FTL drives, and jump when the old man gives the order."

Spock took a second to ponder the use of the term 'old man', and made an estimate on how old Jim Kirk would be when they starting using that epithet when referring to him. "How much subjective time passes when you jump?"

Gaeta peered at Spock. "Subjective time? Jumps are instantaneous. I mean, speed isn't infinite, but we jump, and we're done."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Fascinating. We can track you as you jump, so from our vantage point, your transit through warp space does take time, but to you, on your ship, the jump is instantaneous."

They stood in silence for a moment. "That would mean that the warp field you generate," Spock said, "is more like an expanding bubble than a field. I will have to explore this further, but I have some theories."

Gaeta was fascinated. "So, when your ships engage your FTL, you are aware of the passage of time?"

Spock nodded. "Yes. And your ships chronometers are set to a local standard….they are subject to relativity as well, so they would not measure the passage of local time as the observers from afar would see it."

Fascination turned to frowning confusion. "What does that mean? We aren't measuring the time we've spent while our FTL drives are in use?"

"Precisely. Given the distance you've traveled, and the time you spent in realspace, we could estimate the time you've been in transit….in constant terms."

"I can get that information together for you, Mr. Spock. I think the Admiral would be interested in that information," Gaeta told him."

A buzzing sound alerted Gaeta to the OOD handset, and he picked it up. "This is the officer of the deck."

"Lieutenant, this is Chief Tyrol. The Starfleet engineer said to go ahead and reset the DRADIS to default and check the display."

"Acknowledged, Chief." Gaeta lowered the handset. "Reset DRADIS and set scan for default parameters."

"Aye, Sir." Spock and Gaeta turned to look at the screens, and they blinked dark, then lit up with a slightly different screen. Structurally, the screen was the same, but the bottom two sectors were black, above it were dark blue.

Gaeta pulled the handset back up to his ear. "It's…different all right."

Tyrol chuckled. "Scotty said to toggle the DRADIS to long range."

Gaeta gave the order, and the screen changed…not, almost the entire background was blue, save for a small cluster of points at the top-right of the screen. After a moment, DRADIS identified them as Cylon baseships.

The bridge went silent. Gaeta counted them off slowly. "How far away are these baseships?"

"11.97 hours," Spock answered. "Your Admiral is designing a battle plan onboard Enterprise as we speak onboard Enterprise."

"How far are we seeing?"

Spock looked up at the DRADIS and did some math in his head. "One-point-seven-three-four trillion miles, or approximately two light-months."

Gaeta leaned forward, digesting that. "And they are using their FTL drives?"

"Correct."

"DRADIS only sees one light minute away in normal mode. Can we switch back to our normal mode?"

Tyrol spoke up through the handset. "We're going to configure the interface at the DRADIS control center so that we can toggle between the long-range views and standard DRADIS. We'll have it done in two hours."

"OK..Gaeta out." He hung up the headset and looked at Spock. "I don't know what our odds are against fifteen base ships."

"Approximately 8.2 to one," he responded, "but you do not know James Kirk as I do."

That brought a quizzical stare as the Vulcan continued working.


	5. Chapter 5

"The investigative team is prepared to report their findings."

Jim Kirk swiveled around in his command chair and looked at his first officer. "Is this something we need to inform the Admiral about?"

Spock turned to face his commanding officer and friend. "The knowledge we have amassed since our first battle with the Cylons will not substantially aid the Colonial forces in the upcoming battle."

Kirk nodded. "In other words, we don't have to make a conference call."

Spock paused for a moment, and shook his head. "Negative."

"Fine. Go ahead."

Spock stood and clasped his hands behind his back. "The Cylon baseships' outer skin contains elemental combinations that, in formula with the neo-titanium found by our sensors, offers ablative properties to standard phasers. Full phaser fire, therefore, is not as effective as the use of photon torpedoes. This alloy is not present in the hull of the Galactica. Also, the hull fragments recovered show evidence of restoration….possibly bio-mechanical in origin, but exposure of the interior segments of the armor to the hard radiation of open space have wiped out any material that could be considered biological in origin."

Kirk frowned. "So, the Cylons have armor that repairs itself?"

Spock gave up a half nod. "In a fashion. It appears to be maintenance-related, as opposed to a direct result of our attack. In either case, the armor does not seem to be designed to repel energy weapons, but does so, anyways. Also, we have detected traces of lithium crystal in the wreckage as well. The Cylons may be close to subspace technology, or may be using a rudimentary subspace transmission device."

That statement was more important to Kirk, who blinked at the statement. "If they have lithium transtators, they'd be lighting up whenever a subspace communication was directed at or near one of their ships."

"The evidence doesn't speak to that level of technical sophistication," Spock responded. "It is more likely that they are using the technology for beacons or simple data. True subspace communications are much more complex, and require infrastructure, such as relays, to solidify such a system."

"Captain, long-range sensors show the main Cylon battle group has dropped from warp space," Sulu reported from his position, the blue glow from the sensor/ targeting hood serving to cast his face in azure shadow.

At that pronouncement, Spock went to his own sensors, glancing into the screen. "They have stopped about three hours from our position, given their FTL speed and approach."

Kirk reached up and rubbed his chin. "They're taking a time-out, stopping short to get their assault plan together. With their new sensors, I'd bet Admiral Adama has already surmised that. The Cylons, however, don't know we can see them."

"Captain, Galactica Actual hailing us."

Jim Kirk glanced over at Spock. "Lieutenant, please pipe it down here."

"Yes, Sir. Audio only."

He punched the toggle. "This is Captain Kirk."

"If our new DRADIS is to be believed," Adama's husky voice iterated over the link, "the Cylons have stopped in space."

"We read that as well, Admiral"

"Once they begin FTL travel again, the other Federation ships will vector out to their pre-assault positions," Adama said. "At ten minutes until intercept, Galactica will launch fighters and Enterprise will move into position. Jump coordinates have been sent out to all ships, just in case we are forced to withdrawal."

"Stand by, Admiral. Lieutenant, please tie this into all of the Federation warships." Kirk's request was met with clicking and an affirming glance from Uhura. "All ships tied in to audio, Captain. Signaling ready to receive."

Adama paused for a second. "Once you arrive at your loitering points," he began, "wait for the signal from the Enterprise to return. If you are in realspace within 15 light minutes of the Cylon task force, they will pick up your presence on their tactical systems, so stay beyond that distance until signaled."

A few seconds passed.

"Admiral, all commanders signal affirmative," Uhura spoke, looking at Kirk, who was nodding assent.

"Very well," Adama responded. "Galactica Actual out."

Kirk turned back to look at the screen. The Pluto was coming around and accelerating away from the now-dispersing task force, preparing to warp out of the battlespace and back towards Barrow, where the Colonial fleet was being replenished.

The bridge doors swooshed open, and Montgomery Scott stepped onto the bridge, striding to his station and activating the monitors and controls. Kirk paused for a second, letting Scotty take his seat, then stood up and approached him.

"Scotty," he began, his voice low and his bearing non-official. "How did the repairs on Galactica go?"

The chief engineer must have been expecting the question, because he answered immediately. "Fine, Sir. Their DRADIS and our tactical sensors canna' work from the Colonial computer system…..their computing systems lack the interlinking capacity ours have….so we had to install a jury-rigged interface and drive the sensor control from an old Federation unit, but the wee beastie tested out well and should do the trick," he told Kirk. "It's not equal t' ours, but it'll be a measure better than their DRADIS."

Kirk took this in. 'What do you make of her?" He nodded to the screen, which showed the task force. "The Galactica, I mean?"

Scotty let a grin show through, his love of engineering alight in his dark eyes. "She's a fine old woman," he said, looking at her thunderstorm-grey hull. "Patched up and showing some hull stress, but nothing a stop at a Starfleet repair facility couldn't repair. She's built t' hunker in close and take a pounding, that's for sure," he continued. "Their engineers have done a fine job holding her together, after atmospheric entry, multi-megatonnage nuclear impacts, and probably thousands of conventional missile impacts. Her warp engines….or, wha' passes for them," he intoned, "don'a create a warp field as so much of an expanding sphere. The sphere expands to encompass the ship in less than a nanosecond, but the buildup to warp takes a few seconds. It must be disorientating."

Kirk noted his first officer's attention turning to his conversation, and he smiled to himself. "Mr. Spock will probably want to hear your opinion on that," he told Scotty. "My larger question is if Galactica will be able to stand up to what's coming."

"She'll take a lot," Scott said, his thoughts furrowing his brow, "but, like I said, she's showing hull stress. High-G-realspace maneuvers won't be kind to her, but I think she can weather a good amount of weapons fire."

"Let's hope so," Kirk answered, looking at the flash of the Pluto into warp space.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"OK, the plan is that the Vipers will engage the Raiders within the Galactica's suppression fire cone, freeing up the Starfleeters to blow the frak out of the baseships. The Raptor force is to stay on the flight deck, behind the blast doors, in order to evacuate Galactica should the Admiral give the word. Once the Toasters have launched all their fighters, the Starfleet ships are supposed to jump in. Expect the Cylons to try and redeploy to protect the baseships at that point."

Lee looked at the pilots in front of him. Every pilot was in there, so it was standing room only in the briefing room. Kara was seated to his side, and Kat to hers, with Helo leaning against the far wall, near the hatch that led to the passageway.

"There are going to be a lot of Raiders in the sky….maybe upwards of 800," Lee continued, pausing so the number could sink in. "Don't let yourself get sucked into leaving your wingman. Usually, we'd break up and razzle-dazzle, but with these numbers, you'll be launched with a wingman, and you'll stay together. Two pairs of eyes will be a benefit with such a congested battlezone."

"Don't let yourself get fraked by losing yourself in this," Starbuck chimed in. "I'm as guilty as anyone else for wanting to frak up toasters, but our job isn't to eliminate the Raiders, it's to give the Starfleet ships time. It's not hero time out there today….we're just gonna hold the Cylons in place."

Lee nodded. "The Admiral is pre-authorizing the use of nukes against the Cylons, so be ready to bug out of a given area. Also, you can bet the Cylons are going to be using their nukes, so you are to maintain distance between any capital ship and yourself. If you get the missile warning, and you think you can shoot it out of the air without putting you or your wingman at risk, announce your intention and do it."

There was a pause. "Questions?"

There were none. "OK….the Cylons are three hours away. General Quarters will be called when they are an hour away, and we'll launch at arrival time-minus 10 minutes. With the prior notice, we should be able to catch them napping. Go get some rest, and avoid the bar."

Kara fought off a grin, as the jibe was meant as much for her as anyone else, but she did turn to give Lee a wry look as the assembled pilots stood and made their way out of the briefing. For his part, he managed to keep from looking at her, save for a sidelong glance as he put his papers together.

She thought about staying to give him some grief, but he gathered up his things and left the briefing room with purpose, looking at his watch as he did so. He moved quickly through the ship, up a few levels and through passageways until he got to the bridge.

Lee flicked a look at Dualla, who gave him a half-smile in return. He nodded at her and then made the walk across the large control center to the side of his father, who was looking at a report from what looked like engineering.

"Whatever it takes," the senior Adama was saying," to get those engines going is what needs done. Tell Chief Tyrol that he can have whatever he needs. We've got to be able to maneuver when those Cylons arrive. I won't be a stationary target."

Lee cleared his throat. "Admiral, CAG reporting as ordered."

William Adama straightened up and looked at his son through the lower part of his bifocals. "The Cylons are inbound. They resumed their FTL jump six minutes ago. ETA is two hours, forty-eight minutes."

Lee nodded. It was a lot of lead time. "We're going to be ready."

"I don't doubt that," the Admiral said to his son. "It's going to be hairy. We're working with Commander Spock onboard Enterprise to figure a best placement for your fighters when the Cylons jump in, but we don't expect the Cylons to simply appear at their closest approach again. Last time, it cost them a baseship."

"That's a high price to pay for being predictable," Lee told his father. "I wouldn't do it again."

"What I think," the elder Adama said, walking to the plotting table, "is that the Cylons will stagger their entry into realspace, and try to bracket us at our last known position. Since the Federation commanders want us to fight the Cylons here, in a sparsely-populated area of their space, we haven't moved far enough to make a difference in the Cylons jump-in point. To them, they will achieve the element of tactical surprise, and we're going to have to sell that until the Cylons have committed themselves and their Raiders."

Lee nodded. "How long?"

Adama looked at his son. "Four minutes, maybe five."

The look on his father's face spoke volumes. "Admiral," he began, respecting the formality of the position, "we can't take the pounding from that many baseships."

"I know," Adama said. "That's why Chief Tyrol is working on our main engines. Once the Cylons begin their assault, Galactica is going to come about and run. Chief set up the FTL's to spool and then power down right before we try and duck out, making it look like Galactica's FTL is fraked. Enterprise is going to move to cover our withdrawal, and her job is to hold on until the rest of the task force jumps in."

"You think Enterprise will be able to hold off the baseships?"

William Adama took off his glasses. "I don't know. I think Enterprise will put up a hell of a fight, but it's going to be a race. We have to sell the feint until the Starfleet ships jump back in. If we can last until then, I think we have a shot."

Lee looked at his father. "If?"

Bill nodded at his son. "If."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Bill Adama closed the hatch to his compartment and sat on his bed, taking off his glasses and rubbing his face.

There was less than two hours now before the large fleet of Cylon baseships arrived, and he needed to rest a bit. Everything that he could do had been done, and it was now a waiting game.

However, he was expecting a call:

BUZZ-BUZZ

*click*

"Adama."

"Sir, the President of the Colonies."

A pause. "Put her on."

"Admiral?"

"Madam President."

"Bill…I've been receiving reports and updates on your situation."

"Probably all lies and exaggerations, Madam President."

"I don't know if I want to have a witty exchange right now, Admiral. Can you tell me what the situation is, exactly?"

"There are fifteen Cylon baseships en route at this moment. They are about 95 minutes away, if they maintain their speed and bearing. We have ten Federation ships in position to intercept, including the four capital ships."

"Fifteen against nine?"

"We should have several tactical advangages, Madam President. We can see them coming while they're moving FTL, and we can maneuver in realspace much more quickly. We have a tactical plan in place as well."

"What are your chances?"

"About fifty-fifty, Madam President"

Another pause. "Where is the rest of the Federation fleet?"

"We heard that there are eight ships on the way, but their arrival time is several hours away."

"That doesn't sound promising."

"The reasoning behind fighting them here is sound, Madam President. If the Cylons discover human settlements in the area, they will strike as soon as an opportunity presents itself. Fighting them in open space keeps them from knowing about the Federation colonies in the area."

"Hmmm….."

"How is Barrow?"

"Warm…it's a tropical planet, Bill. No tilt, no seasons. Always hot and humid. It's a little smaller than Caprica, so I spent the first day bouncing around like a ball, but I got used to it. The Federation Colony here has welcomed us, and the Federation Ambassador-at-Large has welcomed us officially, and granted us refugee status for the time being."

"What does that mean?"

"

Well, it means that we can apply for a colony planet of our own. They call planets like Caprica 'Class M', and there are over a dozen planets that are Class M we could apply for."

"What about Earth?"

"It is there, and we found it. The news has already moved through the fleet, so morale is sky-high. The Council wants to have a popular vote on proceeding to Earth, or to a colony world of our choosing. Some Colonial families want to stay on Barrow Prime, and I can understand that, given the last three years."

"I think I want to go to Earth."

"Hmmm..me, too. Think we should go together?"

"I think that would be….wonderful, Madam President."

"So is that a date?"

"Yes, Laura, it is."

"Bill?"

"Yes, Madam President?"

A pause. "Think there's room on Earth for a little cabin somewhere?"

He smiled. "I bet there is….somewhere."

A laugh…feminine and warm. "Good. I'll talk to you soon, Admiral."

He heard the warmth and concern in the voice, and also the stirring in his mind as he pictured her, looking with concern and warm firmness.

Gods, he _was_ falling for her.

"I'll hold you to that, Madam President."


	6. Chapter 6

"Those damn Federation ships should'a been sent right after we frakin' arrived…"

Grousing….Bill Adama heard it and glanced sideways at his XO. "You say something, Saul?"

The conversation and tone was quiet and unofficial….meant to be private and informal between the two of them. However, in the massive control center, nothing was private.

"Kirk should have sent for backup ships earlier," Tigh repeated, moving towards his commanding officer and friend so they could talk quietly. "They aren't going to be here in time, except to pick up what's left of the Galactica after those damn toasters are done with us."

Adama sighed inwardly…Tigh could have been a professional complainer, if such a job existed. "Captain Kirk sent a high-priority message before we engaged the Cylons. Starfleet sent a warship to monitor the region in space should more Cylons appear. I don't think there is much more they could do, given the events that led to this."

As his rough-voiced pragmatism settled on Tigh's ears, Gaeta spoke up. "Sir, Cylons have reentered realspace, and our new DRADIS is telling us they're scanning for us."

Adama looked up at the nearest DRADIS console. "Can they see us?"

"No, Sir, they're about 24 light-hours from our position. We're well out of DRADIS range."

"How long will it take them to reach us from their current position?"

A few seconds passed. "Sixteen minutes, give or take."

The Admiral didn't pause. "Very well, Mr. Gaeta. Lt. Dualla, patch me through to the task force," he ordered, moving away from Tigh and the vertical plotting map to the large table-like central console. He looked up at Dee, who nodded at him in affirmation that his request had been carried out, and picked up the corded handset.

"Fleet commanders, this is Admiral Adama. Execute your planned maneuvers and wait for our signal. Good hunting."

On a couple screens, a new image appeared. The Federation sensors now allowed an exterior view of the space around Galactica, and Adama was able to watch the Starfleet ships turn and accelerate away, flashing into warp as they leapt to their assigned positions outside the Cylons DRADIS range. Adama was pleased that he could see 'outside'; probably something related to his piloting days, he silently thought to himself.

"The Starfleet ships are underway," Gaeta reported. "Enterprise is standing by."

"Please raise Captain Kirk," Adama responded, sending Dualla back to her board. "Execute launch of our fighters and get them into position."

Tigh immediately picked up another handset. "All pilots to launch bays. Prepare to launch fighters. Prepare SAR Raptors. All hands, General Quarters, General Quarters. Damage Control teams report to your duty stations. Man all batteries and evacuate all non-essential personnel from exterior compartments. Report readiness status to the OOD."

As Tigh was issuing orders over the shipwide system, Adama was picking up his handset again. "Captain Kirk?"

A pause. "Sounds busy over there, Admiral."

Adama almost smiled. He liked the young man…a good blend of respect for the chain of command mixed with the lack of ostentatious formality. Not a trace of political ambition. "We just sounded General Quarters and are preparing to launch our fighters. I suggest you do the same. We are also going to send you information on telemetry frequencies for our fighters…in case we are incapacitated, I want you and the other Starfleet ships to be able to rescue our pilots."

"Understood, Admiral. My science officer will make sure we have that information, and that we are tracking their ships."

Adama paused. "Captain….good hunting. If I don't get to say it to you later, it's been an honor."

For some reason, back on the Enterprise, the solemn honesty of the rough voice left the bridge silent, and Jim Kirk let himself be affected by the stoic bravery of the older man who commanded the massive battleship that floated a few kilometers away.

"The honor's mine, Admiral. All of ours."

There was a pause. "We thank you, and your people, for standing with us in this fight."

"We are," Jim Kirk said, "all one people now."

Onboard Galactica, the command crew let the sentiment wash over them. "Understood," the gravelly voice said. "Galactica Actual out."

He hung up the handset and looked back up at Dualla. "Shipwide, please."

A few seconds later, and another nod, Adama picked up the handset again.

"Attention…..this is the Admiral," he began. "We are preparing to enter into the most important battle since the fall of our homeworlds to the enemy. This time, however, our bretheren from Earth will be fighting at our side. A victory by our forces will remove the genocidal threat the Cylons pose to our people, and will help ensure the safety of the peoples that make up the Federation of Planets."

He paused. "We have traveled long and we have traveled far. We have lost loved ones, friends, and family to the enemy. Now, at long last, we have sufficient force and firepower to counter-attack those enemies that slaughtered our people, and that continue to threaten us to this day. Our new allies have shown their willingness to fight and die by our side, in order to secure our freedom and safety. Let us be as ready to do the same."

Another pause. "You know your duties and roles. You have been looking forward to this moment for years. We are no longer alone in our struggle against the Cylons. Let this battle be the one that is described in history books as the one that marked the end of our long struggle, and began the rebirth of our colonies. It has," he continued, "been an honor to command you, and serve with you in this time. Attend to your duties. Protect your shipmates. Fight your hardest for Galactica, the Colonies, and our future."

He looked around the command and control room. "So say we all."

He heard the murmured reply as he set the handset back in its cradle.

"Sir, the Cylons have re-initiated their FTL drives."

He nodded. "Launch our fighters."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Fighters began emerging from the launch tubes of the Colonial warship, spinning on their axis and firing their thrusters as they accelerated to their pre-battle positions. On the communication airwaves, Lee Adama ran through their orders for the last time.

"OK, form up and make for the coordinates as soon as they come from Galactica. Until them, station keeping off her port side. Don't get frakked up when the toasters arrive; remember that they'll be all over the place. Our job is to keep them off of Galactica's ass while the old man makes his play. This is blocking action…keep in mind where you're at."

"Roger that, Apollo."

"Copy that, Apollo"

Starbuck and Kat's replies had just finished sounding over the tinny earphone when Dualla's voice clicked into existence. "We're sending out coordinates for Galactica's suppression fire solution, and for the fighter screen. Cylons are due in less than a minute…….fighter coordinates are one-four-five, fifteen degrees low."

"145, 15-low," Apollo replied, turning his Viper in space and applying thrust, changing the vector of his fighter and accelerating to the position slightly behind and starboard of the massive Colonial battleship. In the distance, brilliant white against the dark backdrop of stars, the Federation starship smoothly angled to her relative port, rising away from the fighter screen and placing herself on the opposite side of the predicted point at which the Cylons would enter realspace. There was a substantial gap there…no-one wanted a Cylon baseship to jump in while they were occupying the same point in space.

That would suck.

Lee hit the ship-to-ship comlink. "Starbuck," he said.

A pause….the tone was not a 'commander to subordinate' tone, and it surprised him, as did the sudden lump in his throat. What the hell is wrong with me, he thought.

"Yes?" Her tone, however, was quintessentially Starbuck; overly polite, wry, and deprecating. He grinned at the sound of it, let the quick jolt of humor clear his quickly-formed emotional muddle, and responded, "You never explained that whole thing about getting the cat in. What cat?"

There was a pause, and he looked up at the over 70-strong fighter force forming around their assigned coordinates. Then, a chuckle came over their discreet connection.

"What is wrong with you?"

"See you when we're done," he said, then he looked at the firing solution coordinates that were in from his mother ship. "Stay ready," he ordered himself.

"Stay ready."

Twenty seconds later, Galactica had completed a slow turn, exposing her broadside and back to the spot where they believed the Cylons would pop into space. The Enterprise, now not much more than a elongated dot, came to a relative stop, her forward phaser and torpedo ports aimed at the entry point.

Onboard the Federation ship, Spock was peering into his sensor hood. "Reading degradation of the Cylon warp fields. They will be exiting warp space approximately four hundred thousand kilometers away from our projected point."

'Transmit those new coordinates to Galactica immediately," Kirk ordered. It took four seconds for Uhura to tap into the science computer and send those coordinates to the bridge of the Galactica.

Gaeta saw the data and looked up at his admiral. "Sir, the Cylons are going to be jumping in astern of us, a light second away from what we predicted."

Adama seemed to be ready for the possibility. "Reposition our fighter assets and target the new coordinates with our batteries as soon as they come into range. Bring us around, hard to starboard. Confirm that Enterprise is moving to intercept."

"Confirmed." It was Tigh, somewhat surprisingly. "They're moving like their frakkin' asses are on fire, too. Surprised them as well."

Adama heard the slight smugness in the reply…Tigh definitely had an opinion of the Federation, and it was that they were too reliant on their tech and moral character. Adama looked at the DRADIS and saw the quickly-moving icon that represented the Enterprise redeploying. The smaller icons that represented Galactica's own fighters had also received Gaeta's new coordinates, and were almost in position. The slowest ship of the group (probably the slowest ship in the quadrant, Adama thought bemusedly to himself) was powering into a turn, her two port engines at full thrust and vectored starboard, pivoting the huge ship on her vertical axis.

"Fifteen seconds to intercept," Lt. Gaeta told the command center.

"Execute suppression fire. Bring all batteries to bear as they realize a target. Main batteries are to target and fire at will."

Adama's command was followed by the subtle rumble of KEW's opening fire at what was at that moment an empty point in space.

Enterprise came to her new position, and her bridge personnel, lit by the blinking Red Alert light, watched Galactica's guns erupt over her flanks.

"6…..5….4…..3……2……1…" Sulu's voice counted down, the only sound on the bridge other than the chirps and beeps of the computers, screens, and other electronic equipment.

At what would have been "0", flashes of light began to pop in the blackness on the screen, as if the ships were being photographed by old-time analog cameras. After barely three seconds, Spock spoke up.

"Thirteen baseships in total, Captain."

"Mr. Chekov," Kirk ordered. "target the nearest one with full phasers and torpedos."

A quick second later. "Target locked, Captain."

"Fire."


	7. Chapter 7

The low 'tho-WACK' of the weapons aperture opening could be heard over the normal twittering and beeping of the bridge computers and viewscreen. In the next instant, twin blue lines seemed to reach out from underneath the point of view of the viewscreen and strike the upper starboard pylon of the nearest Cylon ship. Blooms of orange fire lit up on the baseship at the impact points.

"Direct hits on weapons ports and what were designated as fighter launching areas. Reading smaller secondary explosions," Chekov reported. Spock was already peering into his sensor hood. "Phaser ablation is occurring….approximately 15% of our phaser fire is being shunted away from the point of impact."

"Secondaries? Did we punch through their armor with that phaser shot, Chekov?" Kirk stood up from his chair and walked behind his tactical officer.

"Negative, Captain. Secondaries were not internal to the targeted vessel."

Spock spoke up. "Those smaller explosions were fighters. The Cylons were in the process of launching fighters."

"Prepare for tight maneuvers. Set short-range scans on maximum and tie those into our rear phaser array and ECM system. Maintain fire with main batteries on the targeted ship. Bring us to course two-two-mark forty-seven, three degrees down on our relative y-axis. Full impulse." Kirk finished his orders, then walked back to his chair, moving behind it and putting his hands on its back. "Belay the torpedoes. Hold them in reserve until I give the order."

Enterprise fired again, then turned and chased light as her maneuver brought her across the beam of the enemy ship and outside of Galactica's suppression fire zone. The Cylons, initially caught by surprise, had managed to launch fighters and were targeting the Federation starship with missiles.

"Hull rupture imminent near the auxiliary hanger bays," a Four reported on the Cylon bridge. Energy weapons fire is beginning to compromise some of the outlying systems and information busses in that section of the baseship."

"Fighters launched," a Six responded from across the command area.

"I assume the vessels in proximity to us are doing something to help," a One asked the other models. "Maybe communicating our wishes that they stop firing at us so that we can blow them to hell?"

"Baseships 3, 6, and 10 are launching fighters and targeting missiles," a Two answered. "Patience is a virtue."

"Shut up," the One groused. "Patience is best used when not in combat."

Forty thousand miles away, the Galactica was moving under two-thirds thrust, angling abeam the center of the Cylon fleet, maintaining her fire. Weapon impacts from her KEV's were showing on the Cylon ships that had been unlucky enough to flash into realspace at the coordinates set by Adama for suppression fire.

"Hold this course," Adama ordered, looking at the DRADIS.

"Three Cylon baseships are moving to engage Enterprise," Gaeta reported. "Launching fighters and missiles."

As if in answer to that, multiple smaller contacts appeared around the Cylon baseship designations on the DRADIS screen. They moved slowly towards the moving icon that represented the Federation ship.

"Any nuclear missiles launched?"

"Negative, Colonel," Gaeta responded. "Nothing except standard radiation emissions from the baseships. They have their nukes, but they haven't deployed them."

"At this range, our countermeasures are pretty effective," Adama intoned. "Firing a nuke from that far is a risk. They'll wait until they've closed the gap, but are still far enough away to minimize the risk of collateral damage."

"Fighters launched from several more ships….heading towards our fighter screen," Tigh said, describing what he was seeing on DRADIS. "Here comes the party."

"How many?"

Adama's question bounced around the bridge for a second before Gaeta responded, a quick worried glance at Dualla preceding him speaking. "Four hundred and eighty, Admiral."

The only emotion the Admiral showed was the clench of his jaw….far less emotion than when the prospect of four basestars against his one aging battlestar reared its ugly head at New Caprica. "Understood," he said, never looking away from the DRADIS.

After a pause of a few seconds, another warning. "Missiles! Incoming. Between five and six hundred, Admiral."

"All batteries facing the incoming ordinance are to switch to fragmentation rounds," Adama ordered, his voice steady and direct. "Orders for the other batteries are unchanged."

"Aye, Sir."

Outside the battlestar, the tracer rounds coming out of one section of her hull changed color, and small explosions started occurring about three ship-lengths out from Galactica's exposed flank. The huge wave of missiles closed in on the Colonial warship, many being interdicted by the dense cloud of steel that the anti-missile rounds were putting out, but many impacting Galactica along her flanks.

"The Galactica is under heavy fire," Spock reported from his station. "No serious damage, but she is venting atmosphere."

"Angle our course to put us between her and the Cylons. Spock, calculate the maximum shield radius we could produce that would detonate those missiles prematurely," Kirk ordered.

Enterprise was already on the run, chased by several hundred missiles and three squadrons of fighters. Behind her, the Cylon baseships were also following, but at a vastly slower rate of speed. Sulu was slowly counting down the distance between the wave of missiles and the rear shield envelope of the federation starship.

"Captain, if this reads correct, we might be able to stay ahead of the Cylon missiles until they run out of fuel," the helmsman reported. "We could then simply turn out of their path and avoid them altogether."

"Confirmed," Spock chimed in. 'However, we will move out of optimal phaser range, and leave the Galactica unprotected."

"And that's not an option," Kirk responded. "Get that information about our shields as quickly as possible. Sulu, double the aft shields….we're just going to have to lay close and take the heat."

"Aye, Sir."

Kirk moved to the helm and put a hand on Sulu's shoulder. "It is a good option to have, though. Do we have an upper range on those Cylon missiles?"

"Two hundred thousand kilometers under thrust," Sulu replied.

Kirk paused for a moment. "Spock….what about a wide dispersal tractor beam? Would we be able to divert those missiles or……repel them?"

Spock thought about it. "That is a hypothetical, Captain. I will examine the technique."

Right at that second, the first missile impacts began to thrum through the structure of the ship, the shields holding the damaging attack at bay.

"Steady as she goes," Kirk ordered.

A good distance from the two capital ships, a cloud of fighter craft dueled back and forth, the outnumbered Colonial ships momentarily holding their own in their gambit against their Cylon adversaries. Over the inter-cockpit frequencies, orders and calls for help were sounding fast and furious in Apollo's earpiece:

"Hard left…..two on your tail!"

"Vertical! Vertical!"

"Unidentified Viper, you are on fire! Respond! Respond!"

"Starboard engine's out. FRAK!"

The plan Lee had seen and participated in constructing was the best they could have hoped for….reduce the ability of the Cylons to engage their fighter screen with their missiles (due to the overabundance of contacts, both friendly and hostile) and increase the effectiveness of their own weaponry. Also, the formation was designed to put the Cylons into Galactica's suppression fire, but after their initial surprise, the Cylons had modified their own inbound trajectories, and Galactica's fire had been neutralized.

Apollo had made five kills…..not a surprise given the inherent advantages in both the battle plan and in the Vipers, but the enemy had at least a 10-to-1 advantage.

They only had to last a few minutes more.

To his starboard side, he spied a Viper being chased by two Raiders, and he spun his ship on it's y-axis in that direction and fired his main thrusters, leaping into pursuit. After a few seconds, he sighted one of the Cylons down and fired a burst of rounds, peppering the ship and killing an engine. The Raider floundered and fell off of it's Colonial target, and Apollo disregarded it as he started sighting down the second Cylon. He locked on, but before he could fire, the second ship veered off, it's own IFF system telling it that targeting systems had painted it from behind.

Lee turned to follow, yanking the ship hard starboard again in order to follow, but his target flashed and broke into two before his eyes, a Viper blasting through it and completing a roll for victory.

Just a few thousand yards away, Starbuck wiped blood away from her eyes, the mess courtesy of a shattered back-up thruster control. A glancing impact from a piece of shattered ship (she didn't know what kind) had damaged her cockpit wall and broken the now-45 year old piece of equipment. It had flown up in the weightless area and smacked her visor, shattering it.

Now, she was mad, and taking it out on every Cylon she saw. Not even the telltale hiss of escaping air from the cockpit was ruining her concentration….the leak sealant had already reduced the whistle to a hiss, and the hiss would gradually fade. It had better, because she didn't want to have to put on the back-up helmet, located behind the seat of her fighter.

In her periphery, she saw the Galactica taking a beating……and the huge ship was attempting to turn away from the onslaught. Ack-ack was pouring out of her as she turned as hard as she could, rotating undamaged armor towards the Cylon bombardment while she returned fire.

Onboard the battlestar, the deckplates were shaking with the impacts. Smoke poured from a shattered console. Adama was picking glass from his head as he maintained his look at the DRADIS.

"Damage Control parties to Auxillary Engineering," Gaeta ordered into his phone. "Initiate removal of atmosphere in the starboard water treatment areas…all areas signal evacuated."

The Admiral looked at Tigh. "You ready?"

Tigh nodded. "Yes, Sir."

Adama reached down to pick up the phone that rested in it's cradle. "Engine room," the gravelly voice said, "ready full thrust to main engines. Helm, bring us about…lay in a course directly away from the center of the Cylon formation."

"Course laid in, Admiral."

"Engine room ready on full thrust."

"Spin up the FTL," Adama ordered. "Signal Enterprise on emergency frequency that we are preparing to depart."

"Aye, Admiral."

A moment passed. A hundred thousand miles away, Uhura turned towards Kirk. "Sir, signal from Galactica."

Kirk nodded as phaser lances struck the Cylon ship that they had engaged once the battle had started. It was afire, heavily leaking atmosphere, and was moving off at low speed. "Break off. Are we in position?"

"Six seconds, Captain," Sulu responded. "Had to shake some of those missiles."

More muted impacts sounded. "Shield status?"

Spock spoke up. "Aft shields are holding at 67%. The Cylon fighters are pacing us, maintaining fire. Automated fire control is not effective at targeting the smaller ships."

Kirk sat down. "Get a crew back there. Set the battery on manual and fire at will. We'll have a better chance of keeping them off our tail that way," he said. "Do we have a solution on those shields?"

"We can extend the shields to encompass a sphere 1,200 meters in diameter," Chekov said, "and that will detonate the missiles. However, we will not be able to maintain that under heavy fire."

"Noted. Prepare to extend shields on my order," Kirk responded. "How about that tractor beam?"

"We would not have enough time to recalibrate the emitters," Spock responded.

Kirk frowned…he didn't like being told he couldn't do something.

His reverie was interrupted. "Another signal from Galactica….just a blip."

That was the signal they were looking for. "Prepare torpedoes, Chekov. Sulu, get us into position."

Galactica finished her turn and blue fire leapt from her main engines, pushing her towards her maximum realspace speed.

Tigh looked at his Gaeta's board. "We're at flank speed."

"Signal our birds," Adama ordered. "Engine room, thirty seconds."

On another bridge, a One looked up. "Adama's going to try and escape. Launch our reserve fighters to surround them."

"We'll lose our fighter screen," a Six volunteered.

"I'm not letting those humans escape…..wait…." The One (this one named Christopher) said, his concentration now redrawn to his sensory contacts. "The other human ship is moving in, trying to cover their jump. Get those fraking ships out there! Fire missiles!"

"What about our nuclear missiles?"

Christopher looked at the Four. "I vote to target and launch. Who agrees?"

Quickly, four models signaled their assent. The One nodded, satisfaction etched on his face.

"Arm nuclear anti-ship missiles."

The Enterprise completed her maneuver, placing her broadside facing the Cylon fleet.

"Extend shields," Kirk ordered, and Chekov toggled a switch. Immediately, a subtle hum started to increase both in pitch and in volume as the shield emitters surged to overload.

"Tie in warp power to the shields," he said. "Sulu, move us abeam, pacing the Galactica."

"Aye, Sir. Impulse responding."

The Federation ship moved at 90 degrees from her horizontal axis, her extended shields flashing with explosions from conventional Cylon missile impacts. Far to her port side, the Colonial vipers broke formation, swinging around in three distinct groups and splitting up, two making for Galactica, one for the Enterprise.

"Stay away from those missile detonations," Kat called out to her wing. "And you know the toasters will be throwing nukes our way as soon as they decide to…stay awake! Engage any fighters that move in on the Enterprise."

The other two wings led their enemy into closer contact with the battlestar, who ceased firing at the Cylon baseships that were starting to turn to pursue.

Adama looked at his board. "Engine room," he said into the phone. "Blow the bulkhead, shut down the FTL."

"Aye," Tyrol responded. He put the phone down and pointed across the corridor. "Hit it, Jake!"

The engineer he'd spoken to hit a jury-rigged switch, and a loud BANG shook them all, the detonation shaking the Galactica as her exterior bulkheads immediately forward of her food storage area blew into space, the tylium that was placed in the sealed room venting into space.

"Kill the engines," Adama ordered. "Cut main power."

All four engines immediately ceased operation, the blue fire winking and sputtering down to nothing. She continued on in her inertia only, her exterior lights dimming to nothingness.

Onboard the lead Cylon ship, the actions of the Colonial commander were noted immediately.

"Explosion onboard the Galactica," a Two called out. "Reading tylium leakage."

"Their FTL has dropped offline. Power readings dropping…her generators are blown!

Galactica slowly came off of her vector, the huge ship slowly drifting out of alignment with her direction of movement. Only her smaller KEW's maintained fire, shielding her from the missile impacts the Enterprise shields couldn't stop.

"That's IT!" Christopher shouted, his hand rising out of the liquid communication and sensory medium and curling into a fist. "Launch our fighters! Destroy them both!"

With the speed of thought, the Cylons launched their reserve fighters, and called their deployed fighters to reform in concert with the newly launched Raiders. Onboard Enterprise, Spock watched the scene play out in his sensor hood.

"The Cylons have launched their remaining fighters," he said. "Estimate three minutes before they attack. Also reading increased radiological signatures…..the enemy is preparing to fire nuclear weapons.

"Uhura, send out the recall," Kirk ordered. "Inform Galactica Phase Two is underway."


	8. Chapter 8

I have finished my Master's Degree, so this is an announcement that Chapter 8 is on the way!


End file.
